Lifelines
by flipstahhz
Summary: "I've been sleeping with a recently diagnosed lesbian. My career has reached rocket point, and as for my love life? ...Well, it's non-existent. That is, until this crazy redhead runs in front of my motorbike." I bark, "Now, for the love of God, pass me a darn aspirin, Koushiro!" [CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO] Parallel story to Bittersweet Catastrophe
1. p r o l o g u e

\- _parallel story to 'Bittersweet Catastrophe', told from Yamato's POV._

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 **[LIFELINES]**

prologue

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My chest is tight.

Breaths laboured, I groan when I feel her long strands of hair fall over my face. Trickling black ink, grazes against my cheeks. Her breath against my skin makes me shiver. Her kind, pained eyes are vivid as they muddle my thoughts. Her feverish lips cluster kisses down my collarbone. I recoil, but hold the back of her head against my heat. I straddle her and she lets out a broken cry. We tumble over the tangled sheets, bodies desperately harmonising against each other to make a complete, sounding melody.

I stir awake. My heart is pounding and tears are glazing my vision. I half expect myself to be in my old home, looking across my bed to see my emerald green school uniform. However, all I see is my bookshelves crowded with my library of CDs and records, positioned in its proper and immaculate order.

Turning on my side, I watch her clip back on her white, laced bra. Her hair isn't black, but cropped short and copper. She was not the girl in my mind. This woman's my pattern, my routine. We'd keep each other company; we'd warm each other's beds. She knew how to satisfy my thirsts; and I knew how to drown her in desire. We'd talk about nothing; we'd talk about everything.

That's how it's always been between us. A relationship driven by lust and not love. And I was fine with it. We both were.

She cranes her neck towards my direction, offering me a brisk smile. "You had a dream about her. It's been awhile since you have."

"Who?" I croak out, sitting up. I rub my eyes, but even though I vaguely remember the dream, I know who she is talking about. I take a stab at it and guess, "Kaori?"

"Yeah."

"Oh," I reply, softly.

I watch her as she lifts the maroon sweater over her head, smoothing it down and covering her body. When she's about to shimmy into the pair of leather black pants I had skinned off her last night, I reach over to bedside table and feel for my pack of cigarettes. Lighting one up, I lean against the bed head, inhaling and deeply exhaling.

She falters by the door before she leaves. "We-I-I'm sorry. Yamato, this will probably be the last time."

"Jun...I know," I say, trying to act fine about it. I'm lying and we both know it. I force out a dry chuckle, "Since when have we been serious together anyway?"

I had immediately noticed when we slept together. Jun had wanted to talk, and I had denied her that. I persuaded her into bed and screw her instead. I had felt the hesitation in her movements, the confusion, but at the same time, the familiar comfort. She had wanted to stop, but her body was used to me and I was in a cruel mood. I knew her weak spots, the places that made her beg for more, and what made her giggle and laugh whenever we'd get into a heated frenzy.

"We're still friends though, right?" Her shoulders are drooping as she gazes at me.

 _Of course we'll be. However, it won't be the same…_

I nod anyway, taking another puff.

You could say this is like a break-up, but it really isn't.

Perhaps I had fallen for Jun at some point during our deal, but even I knew it wasn't possible for something to ever bud between us. We had negotiated with each other, and I knew she had broken the agreement. She had found someone.

"Is it because you're finally coming out of the closet, or because you've fallen in love?" I plainly ask her.

"Both."

"Good," I comment.

She pauses, raising an eyebrow at me. "How did you know?"

''By now you would have either fallen for me or rattled on about commitment," I tell her. "No girl wants to keep a pattern like this going."

"I'm no ordinary girl."

I state, smirking, "That's because you're bi."

"A lesbian now," Jun corrects me, matter-of-factly.

It's not that I'm bitter about it. I'm dejected that it's over, but I wasn't going to get angry about it because I knew that, at some point, this was bound to happen. It had taken me some time, but I had eventually pieced together Jun's orientation and that this separation would be inevitable.

However, I didn't think it would be _this_ soon.

"My penis must have converted you. I curse it to hell." I grumble, pointing at the lump under the sheets.

Jun scoffs and rolls her eyes at me, "Well, aren't you the romantic."

"Honey, you know I'm great." I casually shrug.

I look back up at her to watch her peel into laughter. I find myself laughing along with her.

When the laughter subsides, I say, "Introduce me to her. I'd like to see the woman who triumphed over me."

"Sure Yama. I'll let her know." Jun says.

I grumble, "And now I need to find your replacement."

Jun snorts back, "I'm sure _any_ woman would be proud to sacrifice themselves to you."

"It won't be the same," I admit.

Although I know she's right about finding another woman to keep me company, they wouldn't be able to replace Jun's sense of humour. We connected. We got along well and she knew things about me that I didn't even know. Sometimes I even felt closer to her than my best friend, Taichi.

She trails back towards the bed and plants a parting kiss on my forehead. "I hope you find what you're looking for too. I hope you find your special somebody, Yamato."

Her last line stays with me as she leaves my apartment. I gaze up at the white ceiling, my back sliding down onto the mattress. I stub the cigarette and let out a deep sigh.

 _Me?_ Find my own special somebody?

The thought seems formidable and unreachable. Why would I want that? Why put myself through the drama of commitment?

Besides, I have everything I want.

My dream of being a successful musician had come true. People who hadn't believed in me had to swallow back their words when they saw my face in the billboards and music, sound their speakers. I had worked hard to achieve this. They didn't think I'd make it this far.

But I had.

So, tell me, _why_ would I want another person in my life? I already vowed to myself that I would not let this happen; to never give my heart to a woman. Why would I be a fool and trade this life that I have, for a mere somebody?

Despite everything I've said, I have tried it before. I had tossed everything aside for a person...only to watch it self destruct and fail. She had thrown me away.

And I won't let this happen again.

 _Ever._

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 **(a/n)** Oh no. Guess what happened? This did...and it _wasn't_ meant to happen! 4ams are bad.

This may be quite angsty and darker compared to Sora's POV. I felt like I needed to write from Yamato's POV and tell his story, despite this fanfic being parallel to Bittersweet Catastrophe.

I'll focus more on this story once Bittersweet Catastrophe is completed.


	2. chapter one: a fiery spark

_"You gotta swim, swim in the dark. There's no shame in drifting, feel the tide shifting and wait for the spark."_

Swim - Jack's Mannequin

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 **[LIFELINES]**

chapter one: a fiery spark

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Strumming the guitar, I absentmindedly hum an obscure melody.

None of the songs are certain or clear. They're made up melodies merging from one song to the other. A listless series of unknown, forgetful tunes.

The window is half open. A soft breeze floats in and lightly nudges at the neglected, scrunched up papers of sheet music, scattered around me.

I don't know how long I've been sitting here. My legs are stretched, minimally splayed out on the tatami flooring, and my back is resting against one wall adjacent to the window.

On my right, my grandparent's dog has made himself comfortable. Paws touching my leg, and head down, having had fallen asleep while I had been playing for, what seems to be have been hours.

I glance at my wristwatch. _Yeah_...it's nearing five hours straight since I've been caved in this room.

Even on annual leave, I'm subconsciously _still_ working.

When I get into one of these moods, sometimes I'm the most creative. They're my low points, my low phases that catch up with me at least twice a year. It's a combination of feeling lost, misdirected, unsettled, frustrated...almost even melancholy. I have ways around these moods. I have sex (too bad Jun's turned gay on me...I haven't had a root for two months), I work my ass off, I soak my body in a private onsen, or I retract myself and hide from everybody.

Needless to say, whenever all these options are denied, sometimes I say and do things to my close friends, that are unaccounted for, coming off as rude and even downright mean.

My manager must have sensed my despondent presence in the studio because he had forced me to go on leave. " _I don't care where you go, Ishida. You need a holiday. You've accumulated too much leave that if you don't take any time off right now, the company will have to pay you out instead._ "

So I had taken three weeks off.

I had filled up my backpack with clothing, pocketed a packet of cigarettes, lighter and my wallet into my leather jacket. I then had hopped onto my motorbike and rode out of the big city.

It hadn't been a complete aimless drive because after a day of making intermittent stops on the road, I found myself in the familiar region of Shimane.

' _Promise me that you'll visit your grandparents when I pass away.'_

Maybe I had been in the mood to fulfil my father's wishes, as I had found myself in front of the family owned ryokan a day later.

Originally my grandfather was a chef at the ryokan. When the owner passed away, he handed it to my grandfather. So now my grandparents are running the old accommodation. I like staying at the ryokan because I get free accommodation, good food and my grandparents company. I don't praise myself as a promise keeper all the time, but when my dad had mentioned he wanted me to drop by and check on the grandparents here and there...I couldn't help but oblige.

After all, I've grown quite fond of Shimane. My father's hometown is quiet, but it has a familiar vibe and is comfortable to be in.

Like how I've been staying in his room…

Perhaps what I really needed _was_ a break; but also to visit my father.

I study the acoustic guitar that's still laying on my lap. It had once belonged to my father. I had stumbled across it and, immediately, I had wanted to play it. Seeing my father's guitar made my fingers itch to pluck its strings. The rest was history from there, and I hadn't stopped playing, until now...

In an attempt to not wake the dog up, I carefully lift the guitar from my lap and slide it back into its casing.

" _Yamato-kun_?" My grandmother's frail voice calls out.

She's cute. I'm already thirty and she's still using the honorific 'kun' after my name.

"Hmm?"

"It's dinner time."

I smile, getting up onto my feet. My face contorts in pain when my left leg cramps up, but after shaking it around, I feel the pain slowly subside.

Waddling over to the other side of the room, I push the door open, grinning when I see my grandmother waiting by the the room. Wrinkles crease around her eyes as she smiles at me, which is something common for her - even prior to her aging - since she is _always_ smiling. I don't find many things cute, but I can definitely say my grandmother is the definition of it.

Putting an arm around her, I support her as she guides me to the dining area. "What delicious food have you prepared for me this time, grandma?"

"Only the best." She cackles, "Since you'll be going home this evening, I've made all your favourites."

"Everything you make is great," I compliment her.

"Don't need to flatter me. Sometimes you're worse than Takeru." She laughs, but in her eyes I know she's loving the compliments I'm showering her with. "Anyway, Yamato-kun, I bet you're excited about abandoning us again."

I tell her, "I didn't abandon you. You and grandpa are my first preference, even above my friends."

"Liar." My grandfather lets out a loud, burly chuckle. He puts a hand my back as I take a seat besides him.

I smirk, clapping my hands together. " _Itadakimasu_!"

My grandparents laugh. I smile, digging in like the foolish grandchild I must seem to them. I'll miss this. Having home-cooked meals for the three weeks has been a darn privilege. Ever since my parents had divorced, sitting at a table for dinner is something that I'm no longer used to. When living with dad, it was either I was never home or he was out working. Our schedules always clashed, and it became much worse when the band had made it big. Instead of a father-son relationship, sometimes it felt like I was living with a room mate - two single and hopeless bachelors.

After the divorce, my dad never cared for himself properly. He always prioritised work, and would smoke like a chimney. He was a mess. And, sometimes, I felt like I was more the adult in our relationship because, whenever I'd have the time, it would always be me checking if he was fine.

As things got more hectic with the band, I wasn't able to visit home more often. Because of this, I still feel guilty. If I had known my father skipped his yearly medical check-ups, if I had known he wasn't eating, if I had known earlier...then perhaps we could have caught onto the cancer during its early stages and treated it immediately.

I know I shouldn't be blaming myself. Everybody tells me it's not my fault.

But I was the closest to dad, and I can't help _but_ blame myself for it.

Though, life doesn't let you sit around and mope. You need to drag yourself up sometimes. Life keeps going and despite the pressure around you, you've got to swim forward - even when it hurts like fuck. Trust me, I've learnt it the hard way.

I down my meal with a couple cups of green tea, leaning back and patting my bulging stomach. " _Gochisousama._ "

Despite having finished my meal, I don't make an effort to move because I know that once I get up, I'll have to leave and head back home. I kind of regret not thinking through my trip to my grandparents' place properly because then I could have taken transport and not worried about the motorbike ride home. However, I'll still be stopping over at places over the next two nights, but the thought of driving for many hours is painful and not the least motivating at all.

"Wait a minute." My grandmother tells me. I watch her disappear from the dining area and then return with a wooden bento box wrapped up in floral print material. "For your friend. He likes these, doesn't he?"

I say, "And I thought they were for me."

"For you too. Give some to Takeru as well. He likes _ohagi_. Just make sure you leave some for your friend. You know...the one with the bushy hair?"

"Taichi?" I laugh, guessing it's my best friend she's referring to. It's not hard when not everybody's hair is described as 'bushy'.

"Yes, _that_ boy!"

Ever since that one summer I had made Taichi accompany me to Shimane as a teen, he had grown fond of my grandparents (and their food), constantly pestering me about giving him the homemade treats whenever I'd see them. I hadn't even reminded my grandmother this time, but she had made the delicacies for Taichi regardless.

Obtaining my belongings, I head out of the house and get onto the motorbike. At the ryokan's entrance, my grandparents are seeing me off. My grandfather teases me, "Send us an invitation to your wedding soon, Yamato-kun!"

I snort. "I need a girlfriend to even make that happen." (Not like I'm seeking one either)

It's an ongoing joke between my grandfather and I. Ever since Takeru had gotten married, he's said I'd better hurry up and find a woman soon, since I've got a ticking time bomb over my head. He thinks that 'all the good ones' will be snatched away if I don't make a move any time soon.

I know my grandfather's joking, but you know when some jokes are based on a degree of truth...well, I _definitely_ know my grandfather wants me to find somebody. He's like my mother whenever it comes to things like these, but his manner is less argumentative.

My grandmother tries to convince me to stay another night as it's already dark. I tell her that I really have to go, much to her disapproval. She, instead, makes me swear to visit them in a few months before she finally permits me to leave.

"Bye!" I yell as I start the engine.

I wave while reversing out of the driveway and half an hour later, I'm driving out of the neighbourhood.

I like driving at night time. The streets are less busy, meaning there isn't peak hour or traffic. I can cruise down the roads without pressing on the brakes too often, therefore making the ride much smoother.

The humming and vibration from the engine, is like somebody is chanting to a rhythmic song. It's sedating to listen to. I lean forward, repositioning myself as I delve further out of the city and into the darkness of the rural towns.

After approximately four hours of straight driving, I check into a Kyoto business hotel just before midnight. There must be some festival going on because the rates are more expensive than usual, and there's a truckload of couples and families still roaming the streets. I hit the sheets and immediately fall asleep.

The next morning, I'm up early and exploring Kyoto. I visit _Kiyomizu-dera_ , purchasing a business lucky charm for Koushiro's upcoming hospital system launch, and a few health and safety charms for my younger brother, Takeru, and his family.

I hit the road again, and decide to spend my last stop over at a cheap hotel near Kawaguchiko Lake, looking over Mt. Fuji.

I have breakfast by the lake. It's pleasant seeing a stretch of greenery and nature.

Often I feel suffocated by all the skyscrapers in Tokyo. Sometimes it's nice to get out to take a fresh breath of air. If you had asked me this in my early twenties or when I was teen, that I'd be like this, I'd probably stick my middle finger at myself. There's things you discover about yourself, the older you get I guess. I feel like you begin to appreciate things more...

Boy, dad would laugh at me if he saw me like this and thinking like an old, wise man.

I stretch, feeling the chilly morning breeze against my skin. Since I'm here, I choose to stay by the lake a bit longer to roam around the area. I end up spending the whole day by the lake, wandering aimlessly around, hiking, and clearing my thoughts.

By dinner time, I'm bored out of my mind. At least, back in Shimane, I had my grandparents to bother, and being by myself without an instrument or something to work on is leaving me restless. I'm always used to doing _something_ that my body doesn't know how to cope whenever I have 'free' time.

Picking a local restaurant, I resort to ordering a bowl of ramen. After this, I'll be go back to Tokyo. Since I'm on my own, I glance at my phone while I eat.

You know your life sucks when you only receive a text from your best friend all day.

And it's not even a text. It's a photo of Heathrow Airport, or what I can gather from reading the English characters.

The idiot is coming back from London. I send him back a photo of my ramen.

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' _Knife of Ramen?_ ' Is his reply.

I respond back, ' _One more joke about KOD and I won't give you your omiyage from Shimane."_

 _Taichi: OHAGI?_

 _Me: We do a trade. Give me a decent souvenir from London, then 'perhaps' I'll give you some of my grandmother's food._

 _Taichi: Just give it all to me. Deal?_

 _Me: No deal._

 _Taichi: Great, I'll see you when I get back. I miss you Yama baby *heart emoji*_

 _Me: Go fuck yourself._

 _Taichi: *heart emoji*_

 _._

I chuckle to myself. Even though I have been feeling shit, Taichi's good at making me feel less grouchy.

The chuckle earns a few people to stare at me. "Is that Ishida Yamato?" It is then followed by whispers of excitement, and it's then I know that I've been spotted.

I'm good at concealing myself from people, but I had been hungry and you can't exactly eat when you have a mask covering your face. I place the right amount of cash onto the counter before making an escape from the fans.

At least the fans have backed down a bit since the band had split up. Nevertheless, I do get recognised every so often. I miss being able to eat a simple bowl of ramen without being ogled at. Once you become a celebrity, you are perceived differently. It's inevitable.

Mounting onto my bike, I'm relieved to know the drive from Kawaguchiko Lake will take the least amount of time.

Getting back to my place and sleeping in my own bed sounds exciting. The thought gives me the extra energy to ride on. It's a struggle, but I'm finally at my journey's end.

The streets begin to look familiar, the areas more busy with people, buildings getting taller and looming over me, and the lights more brighter, lighting up the night sky.

An unsettling feeling of weariness topples over me. Now that I'm back, I'll be going back to my regular routine. Work, eat, breathe, and forced social interactions. And, with everything combined, an unclear future. By now, you'd think I'd have my life sorted. I mean, I have everything I want, or could possibly ask for. But something is lacking; and it _irritates_ me.

My mind is calmer, but my heart feels heavy as I delve further into Tokyo.

 _What the…?_

It's when I'm minutes away, I see a figure swagger onto the road. The hairs on my back stand up. Perhaps I've been watching too many horror movies lately, but the figure isn't even walking to the other side of the road - it's _standing_ there.

My foot presses hard against the brakes and, from the impact, I'm surprised that I wasn't thrown off, or my motorbike hadn't flipped over. If I hadn't been paying attention, I would have been a split second from killing the person.

Cursing under my breath, I heave for air, gasping in a cold sweat as I glare at the woman in front of me.

From the bike's headlights, she looks around my age. Her hair is auburn, cropped short and her lipstick is stained a wine red. She contrasts against the night, her fiery specs of red in her appearance, sparking against the darkness.

She's haggard-looking, with half her cardigan sloping off her shoulders. Her cheeks are a touch of pink, while her brown eyes are dilated and wide. The crazy woman must be either on drugs, or has had too much alcohol if she had just intentionally run in front of my motorbike. _What_ was she thinking?

Inches away from home and I _have_ to bump into a lunatic!

It's infuriating; _she's_ infuriating.

Shouldn't she be acting her age, and not disorderly and irresponsibly? Sure, she can do it in her own house, or within a safe environment, but she _shouldn't_ be running out in public and onto the street like some maniac. I mean, _seriously_ , I don't want to be the one responsible for crashing into her and paying a hefty hospital bill!

"Do you have a _death_ wish?" I start, seething inwardly as I try my best not to shout at her.

My first day back in Tokyo and I'm _already_ raging.

 _Great._

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 **(a/n)** I was freaking out because I almost lost a quarter of this chapter. Anyway, from here on, it will run parallel with Bittersweet Catastrophe...but obviously told from Yamato's POV. There will be a whole lot of world/character building from Yamato's POV, so it might even read as a different story. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy it. No matter what, Yamato's will always be a moody king. Haha.

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Yamora – Thanks for checking out this story too ;)

Guest I \- 4am happenings are very dangerous. Like right now...it's 5am and I felt the sudden urge to write this chapter. Sigh. Haha. There's more to Yamato's story than Sora, so it'll be fun to explore his POV. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Guest II – Thanks for reading. Yamato's feeling for Sora will be...interesting to write. Haha.

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P.S. Will reply to the other reviews later. Sleep calls for me. Good night. ;)


	3. chapter two: first impressions

_"I'm on the highway to hell."_

Highway to Hell - AC/DC

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 **[LIFELINES]**

chapter two: first impressions

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"Do you have a death wish?" I lash out, voice rising a decibel louder, "I _almost_ ran you over!"

She sighs, not appearing to care that I could have knocked her out like a bowling pin. In fact, she looks calm, albeit piqued as she grumbles out in discontentment, "By how this night has been, I might as well ask for one."

Is she... _joking?_ Because I don't find her hilarious at all.

However, since the air is cold and crisp I scent a smell wafting over too me. My stomach tumbles as I try not to dry retch from the familiar scent. I don't know how much she's had to drink, but I can pick out the distinct odour of vodka. My nose is particularly sensitive to vodka because it reminds me of those many messy nights, when I was in my twenties, partying it up and vomiting into toilets.

I need to get out of here. I just want to go home, and lingering near this lady any longer might make me want to throw up that bowl of ramen I had for dinner. I turn my head away from the her, taking a deep breath of air as some disastrous attempt to _not_ lose my temper, before looking back to confront her.

"If you don't plan on killing yourself, could you kindly get out of the way then?" I hiss, revving up the engine to get her to move.

She actually rolls her eyes at me. What gives her the entitlement to do so? It's _she_ who has blocked the road like the raging lunatic she is!

"No. I need your help."

I instantly snarl back, "Well, that's a pleasant way to ask for it!"

Seeing that she _still_ isn't moving, I coast of the seat. I unbuckle the helmet from under my chin, resting it onto the seat as I stride forwards towards her.

"What's wrong, miss?" I ask her.

She looks determined not to move. Her hands are shaking, eyes blazing and _boy_ , does she smell like vodka! As I take advance closer towards her, she takes a step back. Her breathing hitches and her eyes are teary. Why is she getting all emotional now? Wasn't she just asking for my help a second ago?

I sigh when she doesn't respond. "So?"

She frowns at me, lips pouting as she sulkily glares at me. I don't know what comes over me, but she looks actually cute - not in an attractive or hot way, but how it looks like she's going to throw a tantrum. It's like she is a little girl whose had candy taken off her; that type of cute. Then again, it's probably the alcohol making her act the way she is right now.

"Don't worry about it."

After all the commotion she's caused, she wants me to _not_ be worried. She was about to be run over. She wanted my help, but now she's turning _me_ down? What's wrong with her?!

She bites her bottom lip, spinning around on her heel. She almost looks like she's about to trip as she staggers further, walking away from me.

I don't know if it's a good idea to leave her like this. Perhaps she isn't joking? Maybe she _does_ need help. Maybe she _does_ have a death wish.

The thought of this makes me almost choke. Had she been purposely reaching out for somebody because she...wanted to commit suicide? It really _isn't_ a joking manner if this is the case. I had acted pretty much like an asshole to her too. Death is prominent in my life, a factor that plagues me, and I don't want to deal with another person dying. I still get nightmares. I _can't_ let this happen. I shouldn't leave her alone; I _can't_ leave her alone!

My pulse quickens as I lunge after her, fingers gripping tightly onto her wrist.

"Let me go!" She tries to shake me off.

"You said you wanted help," I say quietly. "If you're really serious about wanting to take your life-"

"Oh, God _no_!" She intercepts my sentence, paling.

Although she won't admit to it, I can't be completely sure she's telling the truth. I've known many people who pretend they're fine, but then they go off and do stupid, and reckless things because they don't know how to cope with their negative feelings. And, even though she is a stranger, I can't let her go until I know she definitely won't do any harm to herself.

 _Not again_...

I frown. "It's not something to joke about. If you really think like that, I can get somebody to help you?"

Her frown matches mine. She looks at me as she peels my fingers from around her wrist, rejecting my offer. When I stare back at her, questioning, the lady merely shakes her head at me. "As much as I'd love you to psychoanalyse me, I really don't need your help on my sanity. However, what I do need is some aide to change a tyre."

"A tyre?" I repeat. Immediately, I let out a sigh of relief.

"Yes, a tyre."

Is she kidding me? She only needs help with changing a tyre?

I peer around us, finally taking a glimpse around our location. When I had hopped down the motorbike, I hadn't paid attention to the location surroundings because I had been more peeved at the woman who had run onto the road.

Nevertheless, I don't see any cars within distance. I raise an eyebrow at her, my thoughts going back to questioning the woman's sanity. I speak up, "I don't _see_ a car."

"That's because it's three blocks down."

"And you think I'll believe you after all this?" I say back.

She bristles, glaring at me. I'm usually the one often getting accused for glaring a lot, or so my friends tell me, but this woman seems more the victor at our glaring competition right now. Her cheeks are pinker as she points at me and yells, "I don't care if you believe me or not! If it had been a _normal_ situation, I wouldn't have run out in front of you!"

I can't help but respond, "A _normal_ person wouldn't do that either."

"You are _impossible_ ," she snaps.

This is making me have a headache. My hands hovers around my forehead, giving it a squeeze to eradicate the sudden pain that is throbbing in my head. I don't hold back what's been on my mind.

"You're crazy."

"Good. That's great! Of course I'd be crazy by now after my _fantabulous_ birthday," She shrieks like the loony she is. With hands on her thin waist, she barks, "Now _leave._ I don't need you anymore."

Well, good riddance! I don't say that out loud, of course. Because if I do, she'll say something back and the arguing will get louder and louder. In fact, somebody in the neighbourhood might report us to the police for or disruptive behaviour, of being a public nuisance and disturbance. From the way she's snapping me, perhaps I _should_ get away from her.

I click the straps of the helmet back around my head. As I switch the engine back on, her honey-golden eyes rest on mine. Again, she hasn't left. So...should I go and leave her like this?

In my head, I try to rationalise it all.

Apparently it's her birthday; or so she _claims_ it to be. Is she lying? Well, she's _definitely_ drunk. She's had a good (well, maybe not so good) night and the reason why she's flung herself in front of my bike is because her tyre needs to be changed. _Or_ she could be _so_ wasted that she's actually making this story up.

Hmm...

She _might_ need my assistance. She might be stranded her in the middle of dark. Should I be a good Samaritan? Should I believe her? I'm not one to trust strangers; but something about how the way she's staring to me is hitting a nerve.

Although my engine is on, I haven't moved an inch.

For the final time, I ask her, "You really don't know how to change a tyre?"

Blood rushes to her cheek as she begrudgingly mumbles, "Well, it's not like I innately know how to do it…"

I have to give it to her, perhaps even I had been wrong here. She may have run onto the road, but I hadn't taken her cry for help properly, or allowed her the chance to tell me what she needed a hand with. And the longer that we talk, her words are less slurred, like she is gradually turning sober.

Acknowledging that I've already dug myself into deep, and that I can't leave her stranded, I kill the engine. It's such a shame that I'm _nearly_ home and I have to do this…

As I wait for her to lead me the way, a familiar voice drifts into the air and, surprisingly, addresses me.

" _Yamato_?"

It's my brother's wife: Hikari. What is _she_ doing here? She is rubbing her eyes, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her left ear. I mount off the motorbike, greeting her with a quick hug. As I do so, I note the woman suspiciously watching us. From the shocked look she's throwing us, I assume the woman is acquainted to Hikari. Perhaps I should mention to Takeru to be wary of the people his wife associates with…

As I exchange a few more words with Hikari, I cast I sideway glance to the strange woman. "I'm around the corner from my place and it's unfortunate that only now I get stopped by-"

The woman fills in the gaps, and introduces herself, "Sora."

 _Sora?!_ That's her name? _Sora?! Oh no..._

Her name's a common name, but now that she's standing besides Hikari, I immediately recognise who the strange woman actually is.

She's a person that's constantly been brought up in many conversations amongst my friends because we share the same friendship group. And, ironically, we've been missing out on meeting each other over the years.

How could I _not_ know her? Taichi had ranted and raved on about her ever since befriending her. Let's just say that, once upon a time, he had a crazy crush on Sora (of course, that's before he met Mimi. Don't tell Mimi I said that). Fiery lustrious hair, appealing lips, _and_ a great figure...I guess, after all these years, the descriptions I've received from Taichi is still applicable.

What a great impression we've made on each other! She must think I'm a blockhead because I've insulted her; while she's thrown a tantrum at me. We've _literally_ made the worst first impressions on each other.

And is it _really_ her birthday? I observe her more closely under the dim lighting.

She's staring blankly at me. Although I seem to know who she is, she doesn't seem to connect the dots; so I try to jog her memory. "Takenouchi, right?"

It's then that it dawns over her. She covers her mouth, eyes widening in awe. However, her surprise expression is replaced immediately as if to gain back her demure composure. Her lips quirk upwards into a smirk.

"Ishida, right?"

"Nice to finally meet you."

With eyes sparkling, she responds, " _Likewise_."

Hikari stifles a giggle from behind us, clearly enjoying our interaction. Meeting Sora feels like I'm going through an awkward school reunion, but at least I can acknowledge that she's got some sort of whacky humour to play along with my foolishness. That, or we're equally matching each other though despite being in a _very_ odd situation.

From the hours of riding, I swear I go delirious. I actually bring my hand in front of me, waving it right in front of her face. "So you are real? You _do_ exist?"

"I like to think of myself as very much alive," Sora retaliates.

We banter on a bit longer until Hikari reminds us that they need my assistance with changing the tyre. I take a few steps backwards to fetch my motorbike, gripping onto the handles as it rolls alongside with me on the footpath. I see a crimson car within the distance and freeze as soon as I've spotted it.

 _Ayaka?!_

I would have thought the car that I'm changing the tyre to either belonged to Sora, Hikari or Mimi. _Christ_. I didn't expect it to be Taichi's! Despite Mimi living under the same roof as my best friend, I know that Taichi would _never_ let her (or anybody) touch the vehicle without him being there. I mean, if somebody goes to the extreme of titling a car after a person's name...you need not be told how _obsessed_ the owner is. I've known Taichi since I was a kid and even I know that he would never let me near his first love.

Enough that the car's been illegally taken out by Taichi's alleged girlfriend, but I realise that there's much _more_ to the story than just taking the car out and having its tyre changed.

 _The girls have rammed the car into a tree!_

It Taichi sees this, he'll either go into a frenzied rampage or _even_ faint at the sight.

" _No way_." I gape. I glimpse Mimi crying, as she sits on the grassy nature strip. "Taichi is going to have your head for this, Mimi. Ayaka is his baby."

"Don't remind me! My head is already hurting enough as it is!" Mimi cries out. When she realises that I'm here, she sniffs, "Why are _you_ here?"

"Apparently to save you all," I grumble, nodding my head at Miyako in greeting. I've always gotten along with her well, ever since she was my partner for my brother's wedding.

Miyako returns a toothy, nervous grin as she dresses a graze on Mimi's forehead with a square bandaid. The girls are _really_ going to have it when Taichi finds out the damage they have done to this car.

I say, "Let's just say it was a fateful meeting."

Miyako gazes as me, waiting for me to clarify what I'm talking about. So I gesture to Hikari to explain it, who rolls her eyes at me but ends up telling them of how coincidental it is that Sora had found me. While Hikari explains to everyone, I walk around the car and study the state of it.

 _Wow_. The girls really _have_ done a number on it! There's a massive dent on the bumper, and one of the tyres has deflated.

I glimpse back to the girls when Hikari ends the conversation.

"In other words, Yamato and I have finally met," Sora concludes the briefing. She then remarks before anybody else can continue to talk about it, "Come on, rockstar. We need to get to work."

 _Rockstar?_

I've been called 'rockstar' multiple times, but now that Sora's mentioned the word...it sounds like she's teasing me with the term. I'm not offended, lips curling upwards as I speak, "Are you mocking me?"

Sora simply replies, "Perhaps."

She unlocks the trunk and pulls out the spare tyre. Sora's breathless as she manoeuvres the tyre out of the trunk, but she doesn't ask for anybody to give her a hand. If anything, maybe she can handle changing the tyre on her own?

I say what's on my mind, "And you really need my help?"

Taking the tyre from her, I roll it towards the front of the vehicle, resting it flat against the gravel ground. I add, "You look like you've done this before."

"This happens to me all the time," Sora replies. She lets me know that she, apparently, is prone to getting flat tyres.

Soon we're chattering about pointless things as I do my job. It's a good thing she's keeping me distracted because I'm tempted to look at her even longer.

Taichi isn't lying when he had described Sora as attractive to me. Although she's attired in casual clothes, there's something about her that makes you want to turn your head to take a second look. That, and well, it is _still_ funny to finally bump into the person that all your friends talk about. It's downright amusing.

Miyako drops in and accuses us of flirting. We brush her off, and she finds that her plan of mocking us backfires, as we team up and bully her back. Miyako's always been easy to tease.

I tell Miyako that we need a light, and Sora unintentionally makes a pun on Hikari's name. Even though Sora hadn't meant for it to be a pun, I end up laughing really hard. It's both from the pun _and_ the look of realisation on Sora's face when she's realised what she had said.

We keep talking. When Miyako returns with Hikari's cell phone to use for the lighting, I comment that if I had seen the colour of her hair, I may have recognised her instantly.

"And is there something wrong with redheads?" Sora questions me, tone in her voice getting defensive.

I counteract, "Not at all. Taichi always would goad that your personality is as fiery as your hair. Made sense how you ran in front of a moving vehicle-"

"Can you _stop_ it?" She groan.

Miyako sends me a withering glance and tells me, "Sora's not usually this fiery. Only when she's tired, drunk or has been groped...which is all the above that has happened tonight."

"Groped, huh?" I shudder, pausing from unbolting the tyre. I sympathise, "I know the feeling."

" _What_?" Sora replies, incredulously, probably not expecting me to have understood what she had gone through.

I wish I could say I wasn't telling the truth about sympathising with her, but you wouldn't _believe_ how many times fans have made grabs at my butt like I was a stripper, more than a music artist. It still sends shivers up my spine thinking about it. Not only females can get groped, you know?

Explaining this to Sora, I let out a dissatisfied sigh when I note her giggling. Maybe she's not a empathetic as all my friends claim her to be.

"You must have enjoyed all those girls feeling you up."

" _And_ boys," I mutter back in repulsion.

"That's because you have a pinchable butt," Miyako reasons, smiling snidely.

I complain, "Are we _seriously_ talking about my butt right now?"

 _Great_. I've just met Sora and now we _have_ to take about my behind. Although Sora and I somewhat know each other, by behind is _not_ something I feel comfortable talking about with her just yet (not that it's a comfortable topic to talk about anyway!) When Miyako starts to talk about how it comes down to genetics, and how Takeru has a ' _squishable_ ' butt, I decide not to participate in the conversation anymore.

Solely focusing on changing the tyre, the gruelling process is _finally_ done.

"Thanks Yamato!" Mimi gets up from the nature strip and lunges at me, tackling me into a hug. "You're the greatest!"

"It's fine," I scratch the back of my head.

If I hadn't been here, what would have happened to them? They would have probably had tried to call roadside assistance, but the thought of Sora having run out onto the road in desperation is still vivid in my mind. What if I had been the yakuza, of somebody willing to take advantage of them? What if…

I glance at the girls, studying them. Mimi's still too hysterical to drive. The rest of of them have been drinking. And, even if they hadn't, Takeru always complains how Hikari is a menace on the road (and society), Miyako doesn't have her license and - as for the birthday girl - she's _clearly_ drunk. They must have really went all out for Sora's birthday.

Shaking my head, I snatch the keys from Sora. "I'll drive."

Buckling the seatbelt, I take mental note to pick up my motorbike later. The priority for my night has changed. I need to get these reckless women back to their houses before they cause more trouble. I start the engine and we hit the road.

The drive is silent. The girls must have been really tired from going out tonight. I drop off Miyako and Hikari first, since I know where they live. Mimi's already sleeping when I do u-turn, and head off to Odaiba. Sora lives there. I remember my friends stating how she lives on the other side of town, past Rainbow Bridge. I ask Sora for directions, typing in the address into the GPS.

"I'm a block away from Shinonome Station. Do you know where it is?"

"Yeah. Five minutes from Tokyo's Zepp, isn't it?"

"Have you played there?" She asks me.

I nod, mentioning that to her that my band and I had done our fair share of gigs at the venue. She doesn't question me further about it. In fact, Sora doesn't seem all that familiar or keen with the music scene. It's refreshing. I mean, it's bad to _not_ know much about the music industry and the current music trends, but sometimes it's nice to talk to somebody without them judging you based on your public image.

We don't speak after that.

She stares into the distance, leaning back against the interior and crossing her arms, unintendedly pushing her breasts upwards. Although she's wearing a loose cotton top, I can just about see a generous amount of cleavage. One long leg is folded on top of the other. Since she's sitting next to me, I get a good look at how her tight jeans are layering her legs like a second skin and nod appreciatively at how toned she is. Before she can catch me staring, I smily slyly to myself and cast my eyes back onto the road.

When we arrive at the GPS' destination, I park in front of Sora's apartment.

" _Uh_ -um...thanks for tonight, Yamato. Thanks for existing, because if you hadn't we would be still on the side of the road, whining and, well...the night would have been horrible."

"Well, thanks for existing too," I grin. "It's pleasant to know that my friends weren't lying when they would tell me that you were a real, living and breathing person."

She simpers. It's a pretty simper. She glances at Mimi behind us. "I trust you'll drive her home in one piece?"

"I'm more trustworthy than you are for letting her drive Taichi's car," I retort.

Sora gives a guilty look, confessing, "I walked into that one."

I agree, "Yeah, you definitely did."

She shoots me a thankful glance as she unbuckles herself and climbs out of the car. Who would have known that I'd meet Sora on her birthday?

Winding the window down, I yell out to her. "Happy Birthday, Sora!"

She stretches her right hand upwards, waving it upwards to the sky, but she's not sparing a glance to look back at me. I get a nice look at her behind as she makes her way to the apartment. I laugh, trying to rid the lecherous thoughts playing in my mind. I continue to witness Sora attempt to walk straight, but she's failing and is making a fool out of herself - not that she's even aware that I'm still gazing at her. She's kind of cute. Kind of.

When Sora finally makes it inside the building, I turn the engine on.

Mimi rouses and mumbles, "Where are we?"

"Hell," I reply, bluntly. "Because Taichi's going to murder you when he sees how bad you've inflicted pain on Ayaka."

From the rear view mirror, I witness her as realisation strikes. She lets out a sob, but kicks my seat in the process. "You're so insensitive, Yamato!"

Now that Mimi's awake, I'm glad that I can get out of carrying her to her apartment.

I chuckle.

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 **(a/n)** If you've read Bittersweet Catastrophe, this is quite repetitive. The only different thing being is that it's told from Yamato's POV, with his thoughts - of course. Not all chapters will be like this. When there are scenes with both Sora/Yamato in this story (that are in conjunction with Bittersweet Catastrophe), there will be some parts and conversations added or subtracted, and altered to Yamato's perspective to spice things up.

Yamato's character will definitely be more fleshed out here. There's so much about him that I haven't even touched in Bittersweet Catastrophe because he _chooses_ what he wishes to show to Sora, and his friends. I think this story might even turn out being longer than BC.

Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed this. I'll reply to reviews tomorrow. xox


	4. chapter three: expanding horizons

_"Not moving not rushing just breathing in air._  
 _Not thinking, not worrying, just look to the sea._  
 _The place where I feel most like me"_

A Place Where I Feel Most Like Me - Meg & Dia

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 **[LIFELINES]**

chapter three: expanding horizons

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My best friend's girl looks like a wreck.

Her long brown hair is in messy bun. Feet folded under her body, Indian-style. The dressing on her forehead is gone, replaced with the trace of light cut that is barely visible. On the coffee table, two laptops are out, a phone and a notepad. Scrunched up papers encircle her in an irregular manner, which reminds me of the muddled state I had been when I was at my grandparents' place a few days back, free-styling and composing odd tunes. While my efforts had been amongst the lines of creativity, Mimi's work (or whatever it was) appears to be a load of stressful research.

"You look busy," I break the silence.

She's pouring over an outdated phone book on her lap. I can't even remember the last time I've seen one of them. I vaguely remember using those thick volumes of phone books as a stepping tool to access candy, that my parents would store away from us, when Takeru and I were kids.

Feeling my gaze, she looks up at me and frowns. "Why are you here?"

"I let myself in," I shrug. My suspicions are correct when I take a glance at the notepad, not the least bit surprised at the list of phone numbers she's scratched off. "I thought I'd help you out."

Brooding over the phone book again, she blandly replies, " _Oh_."

Mimi's usually the happy, positive type. Therefore, witnessing her in this sombre, sour mood isn't something I take personally. She blames herself for what happened, and I don't need her to remind her that what she did was wrong. If I don't help Mimi out, I'll get an earful from Taichi regardless. Taichi claims that he doesn't complain, but now that his Ayaka has been injured, I need to prep myself for this upcoming disaster, which is why I've decided to offer Mimi assistance to minimise the damage. No matter what angle I look at it from, it's a lose-lose situation. Taichi's bound to find out, and we'll be all there to watch him explode.

I try again. "You haven't found any worthy candidates to service Ayaka?"

"No. They're either too expensive, not open on weekends, or have no vacant slots available!" She lets out a frustrated sigh. Leaning back onto the sofa, she asks, "I've just about had it, Yamato! Do you have any suggestions?"

I hadn't gone blindly to Mimi's apartment without orchestrating plan. I had done my own research at home too, called a few local places up, and it's when I thought about finding locations out of Tokyo and in adjoining areas, I remembered that I had a friend who owned a body shop in Chiba.

"Do you remember Akira, right?"

She questions, "Your bandmate?"

"Yeah, the drummer," I clarify. "He works as a mechanic now. I could try get him to fix the car either today or tomorrow? I'll probably have it back in time before Tai arrives on Monday. What do you say?"

" _Really_?" Mimi's eyes light up as she prettily beams at me. It's no wonder Taichi had fallen for her hard. She energetically jumps off the sofa and disappears out of the living room, returning back with her purse. I watch as she fishes her wallet out, pulling out her credit card. She hands it over to me, "Use this."

My jaw drops. I know Mimi's a close friend at all, but even I wouldn't easily give my credit card to anybody else. I don't even trust my brother with it. If Takeru had his hands on my credit card, he'd either lose it, go on a spending spree, or possibly purchase a motherload of hideous hats online. (Trust me, I've tried to talk him out of his current hat obsession. He, apparently, thinks it is 'hip').

"It's fine, Mimi," I chuckle, not accepting the credit card from her. She continues to wave the credit card in my face. In response, I shake my head. "I _still_ need to get a quote and, actually, I don't mind paying for it. Akira will give me a discount. Don't stress about it. A couple of hundreds won't kill my bank account. You can pay me later if you really insist."

"Just because you're rich doesn't mean you have to pay for _everything_ ," Mimi states. "I make my own fair of money too, you know?"

"Alright. Let's make an agreement," I compromise, seeing that she won't completely let me off the hook. "If you stop Taichi from giving me those darn blow-up dolls every Christmas, then I'll consider us even."

For Taichi, it's been a 'fantastic' ritual and it's been an ongoing annual tradition since three years ago. He claims that he'll keep doing it until I get married, which is highly unlikely any time soon. My family already gives me shit for not being with anybody, but Taichi takes it up a notch to a whole completely different level. The bastard.

"I'll speak to him about it." Mimi laughs, tears glazing her eyes from pure amusement. She passes me the keys and sees me off at the garage. "Thank you again, Yamato."

Giving her the two thumbs up, I start the engine.

I _could_ have been lazy and done nothing all weekend, but when I had woken up in the apartment, I felt claustrophobic and had actually _wanted_ to get out. The big city was making me antsy, and I hadn't even been back long. At least, while helping Mimi out, I now have an excuse to get out of my home and throw in a sporadic visit to my friend.

And you know what? I can't wait to see the asshole.

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Said _asshole_ only rolls out from under the car when I park right next to him.

He smudges his greased, gloved hands against his top. A feral smile breaks across his face. Chestnut hair spiking up, both ears silver-studded and there's a new piercing on his right eyebrow that I don't fail to notice, considering he's wriggling his eyebrows up and down at the sight of me.

"Baby boy." He greets me, puckering his lips and blowing an exaggerated kiss.

Out of reflex, I scowl at my delegated nickname. Only Akira does this to me. Well, the whole band does, but Akira _loves_ making a show out of it. Despite me having been the leader and the main vocalist, they always treat me like a kid because I was the youngest when they had recruited me. And I, in a sense, had responded and seen them as a bullying trio of older, annoying brothers.

To me, Akira has always been the clown and mood-maker. He ensures to invest on having a good time, and is perpetually the life of the party. Although we've aged, he still is a wild and a untameable wreck.

Whenever Akira's not partying, drumming or sleeping with somebody, he's unhealthily drooling or altering his car. Akira's always had a crazy fascination for vehicles of all sorts, so when the band separated he had become enraptured in building his own car shop, and had inevitably resigned from the label.

"Can you fix this?" I motion at the car.

Because Akira had been focused on giving me hell, he only realises the car parked behind me. He raises an eyebrow. "You got a new car and already crashed it?"

"It's not mine. It's Taichi's." I protest, "And I'm not _that_ bad of a driver."

"Ah, baby boy, I remember the nights we almost had all those accidents thanks to your horrible driving skills..."

"Those nights were skewed because you guys made me drive the first week I got my license. I couldn't focus on the road because you were a riot, all drunk and distracting me from-"

"Yes, yes," Akira mutters, ignoring my rant. He's circling the car in curiosity, rubbing his chin. "Of course this wouldn't belong to you. You've got bad taste. At least Taichi knows how to pick a car. How did he damage it?"

"A tree." I further explain, "His girlfriend took it for a ride without him knowing, and then she crashed it. I wanted to see if I can get it repaired in two days before Taichi comes back...if it's possible?"

Akira meets my gaze, chuckling. "You don't even greet me properly and demand something from me. Nothing's changed much, has it, baby boy? Why are you always so serious? It's not often you're on my side of town. Where's my ' _how are you_ '?"

"Because you're _never_ serious," I comment back.

"True," Akira admits, grinning. "What do you say we go for a drink? I can get this done easily. Five hours max. Pay me for a beer or two and I'll call it even."

I roll my eyes at the drummer. "It's broad daylight, Akira."

"Nothing is going to stop me."

"Your liver one day will," I reply without missing a beat.

"Don't be a spoil sport. Where's the fun in that?" He says, "Lighten up, baby boy."

Akira somehow persuades me to go to one of his favourite local pubs. Since Akira owns the body shop, he is entitled to leave whenever he wants. He's lucky because he doesn't have any customers today.

Like old times, I watch him wipe the froth from his lips with the back of his hand. "Yum. It tastes _so_ good."

I quip back, "I'm sure it does."

"Isn't it weird that when people pay for your meal, or in this case _drink,_ it tastes even better?" Akira continues talking garbage, admiring the pint of _Kirin_ before him. "Beer is _so_ refreshing."

This is common for Akira. Whenever he has his first sip of beer, Akira likes to explain to his drinking partner how much beer is delicious and how it makes him feel refreshed.

It's almost the equivalent to whenever my mother would passionately rave on and and on about chocolate, and how Japanese chocolate will never be good as the European chocolate, that my French grandparents would supply to us in bulk every Christmas. Then again, I'm sure that this could be said about any woman and their chocolate cravings. I still don't understand why women put chocolate on a pedestal. To me, it's one of the world's biggest wonders, as I personally find chocolate too sweet for my liking.

Akira murmurs, "Sometimes I think beer tastes better than a woman."

I blink before registering what Akira's said, and I can't hold my shoulders from trembling as I burst out guffawing. Even though the drummer is a dirty asshole, he always makes me laugh because he - most of the time - has no filter. This is the exact reason why Akira's never held a serious relationship. However, it's not like he's complaining about it. His saying used to be that because there are plenty of fish in the sea, he'd prefer to ' _extend his rod_ ' to as many willing candidates possible. Let's just say Akira is one of those boys that _no_ parent would want their daughter to take home.

"How about you, baby boy?" Akira drums his fingers against the counter. Even when he's not drumming, he tends to make rhythms without realising it. "Do you prefer beer or women?"

"Women." Even though it's ridiculous talk, I keep the conversation going. "However, _one_ woman is preferable over many, despite me being unable to score one nowadays..."

Akira studies me with a knowing look, a knowing look that he knows I dislike.

"Jun and I are over," I reveal, scratching the back of my head. "If that's what you wanted to know."

"I warned you that the friends and benefits thing with her wouldn't last," Akira says like he's the mature one.

I shrug. "I know. Things got complicated. I didn't think it would keep going this long…"

Akira points out, "Yamato, you weren't just fucking her...it was like you _were_ in a relationship."

"Perhaps I was," I respond. I trace the rim of glass with a finger.

I had never seen Jun in a romantic light until I kept spending time with her. I was sure she had liked me at first, but the more we kept screwing around, I realised she was using me as much as I was using her. I _had_ considered her as a potential partner (of course this would cross one's mind if you're constantly sleeping together because you grow physically and mentally attached to each other), but from the beginning we knew that asides from the close friendship, it was lust that drove us, what defined us. I liked her. I was found of her...but I wasn't in love with her.

He prods, "So what happened?"

"She turned gay on me."

Akira chokes on his drink. His eyes widen as he splutters out, "You're joking." When I don't reply and proceed to light a cigarette, he gapes, "But you're not?"

He spends a good ten minutes rubbing it in, like the asshole he is. I don't expect much from him because I knew he'd react this way. Nevertheless, even I'm amused as fuck. I had caught the signs. Ever since I've known Jun, I had sporadically spotted her casting glimpses not only at men, but women too. Perhaps she had been sleeping with me because as well as wanting to get laid, she had been confused with her sexual orientation.

"Then if you aren't with her, is there anybody else?"

I hesitate for a second before shaking my head. The latest 'new' person that I've met is Sora and well, she doesn't even count because she isn't completely a stranger to me.

I'm awfully picky even with making new friends these days, so it's very unlikely for me to be seeing another lady. My friends think I'm choosey, but who wouldn't when fame has struck you at a young age? Anxiety hits you and you second guess everybody surrounding you, musing which person wants to sleep with you because you're popular or who wants to befriend you because you're rich. It comes with fame, unfortunately. There are many people who are out to get you and manipulate you. I've learnt it the hard way. The only _real_ people I trust are my family, or the people I had met prior to becoming a publicised musician.

"Which is why you're not meant to keep just one girl," Akira lectures me, like he's a psychology professor specialising in human interaction. "You need to _expand_ your horizons."

I snort. "Spoken like a real dog."

"I'm the real OG."

I correct, "The _real_ original asshole."

"-that everybody loves."

"Right," I respond sarcastically. I observe Akira continue to tap his fingers against the wooden table. He's unintentionally making a dull beat, and it's something that I've picked ever since we had stepped into the pub. I mutter, "You know what? What I _do_ love about you is when you make new samples. I'd love you more if you made me some..."

As much as I have missed Akira, I've also missed his godsend drumming. He held the band's mood, but also strung us together musically. Lately work has just been about producing and making tunes, and I've missed the fun element of playing in a band. Once upon a time we had brimming with passion and enthusiasm. After working in the industry for an extended period, sometimes you get so immersed in selling records that you forget to enjoy yourself. I remember contributing opinions and ideas with the rest of the boys in Akira's old garage. Those were the days. The boys had always understood me whenever it come to music.

Although I have friends in Tokyo, and I've got a stable job...it's not the same. Music is different and difficult to discuss with them. I can't drool over favourite bass lines to Taichi, nor can I take Takeru to see a random live gig because he finds rock music loud and obnoxious. With my bandmates, they know me on a different level, and perceive things about me that I can't expose to everybody...and it's such a shame we're no longer together.

Eight years. That's how long we had spent together as a band. Not many bands have the privilege of making it that long. We had decided to split when our goals changed. Yutaka wanted to work in one place, getting sick of touring and being on the road because he was in a long-distance relationship. When Yutaka's partner had gotten pregnant, he hadn't renewed his contract and used it as an excuse to leave. Akira also had resigned because Yutaka was his best friend and he couldn't see himself drumming without our keyboardist (and because he had been wanting to work as a mechanic for a long time). And as for our guitarist, Takeshi, he - like me - had renewed his contract, but was a fill-in guitarist for various bands assigned to the label.

"Are you trying to juice money off me?" Akira laughs.

"If you make another _kickass_ beat like the series you made for the _Out of the Ashes_ album, maybe I'll produce a good song out of it," I mutter.

"Is your muse gone?" Akira frowns. "You've got a knack for improvising and composing on the spot. It's your specialty."

"There's this tune I've made. But something's not right…" I hand the cassette player, with headphones, to Akira. He makes a face at my old style of composing, but puts on the headphones. Although we're ahead in times in technology, I can't let go of my old habits whenever I make music. From my point of view, recording music onto a cassette tape is more comfortable.

When Akira's finished listening, I speak up, "What do you think?"

He looks at me for a minute and then ponders aloud, "Maybe if you slow down the intro and bring the bass into the song after the third beat…"

Our casual talk over beer has now turned into a heated discussion. I'm jotting down numerous suggestions into a notepad, as Akira continues to dish me a listless amount of advice. One more beer leads to another and soon Akira's slurring on his own words, face flushed scarlet from the alcohol. I'm not coping well either, with my vision becoming blurry.

Bystanders sends us looks, whispering amongst themselves when we leave the bar. We're real responsible adults to get wasted during the day. I blame this all on Akira.

Since Akira is no longer fit to go back to work, we end up heading back to his.

Later on that evening, I wake up from being sprawled underneath a warm _kotatsu_. I cringe when I get up and use Akira's bathroom. From the bathroom, I can hear Akira's snoring. As I stare at myself in my mirror, I groan when I note the imprint on my left cheek of the zip from my leather jacket that I had used as a pillow. My eyes are bloodshot and my hair is dishevelled. I splash my face with cold water, drying my hands into my hair to smoothen a few stray strands down.

My stomach rumbles. Glancing at my wrist, I find that it's already nine in the evening. Akira's not going to work on the car any time soon, so I might as well make myself comfortable in his home and crash for the night. I raid Akira's kitchen and let out a chuckle when I find nothing in his cabinets or fridge, except for instant noodles and a six-pack of beer.

As I prepare the most _difficult_ task of boiling water for the noodles, my phone beeps.

 _I hear you're back. You're going to be babysitting this Thursday for us, yes? Ever since you've been away, I haven't had some time with Hikari...if you know what I mean. Do a brother a favour, will ya?_

\- TK

I roll my eyes at the message, replying to him with a simple _'yes'_.

Despite there being times when I'm feeling down and wanting to wallow by myself, people in my life bring me back. My mother or brother are always there to irritate me, to check if I'm breathing. Sometimes I busy myself helping out my friends, or sometimes it's I who am relying on them. Either way, all these people bring me back on my feet even when I never really thought that I needed saving in the first place.

I should be thankful. I have more than enough than the average person can ever ask for. But sometimes, I can't help but wonder, to think...that perhaps I'm missing out on something more. _Expand my horizons?_ I scoff as I pour the hot water into the bowl, stirring the noodles with a metal chopstick.

Isn't it amusing how philosophical one can get when making instant noodles?

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 **(a/n)** Sorry this took a while. I caught a really bad flu, so I pretty much was bedridden for a week. I'm pretty irritated because I wanted to update this story AND finish/update ' _Taxi Driver_ ' before the latest Tri movie released. Mainly, because the next two weeks will be very busy for me and then I'll be going overseas.

Anyway, I don't know what to make of this chapter. It's rather bland, but I wanted to show another side to Yamato by introducing another one of his friends outside of the DigiDestined group. I personally adore Akira, so it was enjoyable writing his interaction with Yamato.

And, on a random note, I finished watching the latest instalment of Tri. I really HATE that it's a cliffhanger. I swear the first two episodes were a waste of time. The last two were better though. Anyway, I won't spoil anything because I'm sure not many people have watched it yet.

P.S. Will reply to reviews tomorrow. Going to sleep now. Xox

Ana Maria: Thank you for reviewing! I had to use google translate. Haha. Thanks for reading this story despite it not being your first language.

Guest: I think Yamato, in this moment of time, just sees Sora as a friend's friend/attractive. :) But in a way, yes, I do think he's 'thirsty'. LOL (which IS hilarious to write...idk why, he just turned out that way) xD


	5. chapter four: sophisticated simplicity

" _You're movin shoe to shoe  
But you're not goin  
You stop growin  
The moment that you stay at the top  
The only way is to drop_"

Over - Epik High

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 **[LIFELINES]**

chapter four: sophisticated simplicity

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As per usual, Taichi is _shit_ at calculating time differences. I'm at his apartment early. Nobody's home.

When I had contacted Mimi upon finding the apartment empty, she had texted back saying that they were on the way as they had just boarded the limousine bus. From the looks of it, she had gone to Narita to pick up Taichi from the airport herself. Talk about dedication - or perhaps it's because she's guilty for crashing the car? I still would say it's dedication.

Taichi's my best friend, but I wouldn't bother to go out of my way to the airport to fetch him, especially when there are train expresses and he's a big boy. He can handle his own baggage, thank you very much.

Though, I really wish he would hurry up. There's nothing to do at Taichi and Mimi's apartment. It's one of those rare days that I have nothing on, and I'm _actually_ bored.

My manager had sent me home off early because our vocalists had decided to go on leave. And because I'm working on and assisting the composition of most of their music, I've got nothing to do. I've never been the type to sit around doing nothing - that, or I've over-worked myself so hard that I've forgotten how it's like to break.

Man, I really must be a loser. I decide this when I catch my reflection in the mirror. Smirking to myself, I shake my head.

I'm wearing Taichi's emerald green bathrobe. It was the main garment that had stuck out when I had invited myself to raid Taichi's closet. Wearing suits and business wear is boring, if I'm going to be waiting I might as well be comfortable; even if I am clothed in Taichi's _hideous_ bathrobe.

"Maybe I'll steal this for myself?" I muse, entertained by my own idiocy.

I soon find a hidden stash of chocolate in a shoebox under his closet. I snatch a handful, bringing them onto the coffee table and accompanying the beers I had bought earlier, and other snacks from Family Mart.

Falling onto the sofa, I get comfy and flick through the channels on the TV, settling for pleasant-sounding orchestra that seems to be performing in Prague. I recognise the venue from visiting it during our KOD European Tour. Akira had bought me tickets for my birthday because he knew I enjoyed listening to orchestral compositions. Asides from being ass, Akira can do _some_ things right.

If I hadn't been in a band, perhaps I would have been suited in an orchestra. Preferably strings. I used to play the violin when I was younger, until I found I ended up liking the sound of the guitar a whole lot more. My mother wasn't pleased about it; but then again...when is she ever?

There's always been something attractive about playing with a group of people. I miss jamming with the band, playing as a unit. And now, that I'm more of a composer, it's different because I'm working more with solo artists to hone their skills.

However, it's not the same as hanging and messing around with the boys. KOD are my family. If you had asked me that when we were together, I wouldn't have admitted it. But yeah...they are. These idiots _truly_ are.

But we grow up, you know? Our interests, our lifestyles differs and at some point change comes knocking on our door. Things can't stay the same forever. And as much as I love the group, I too was getting sick of the touring and partying. I missed stability.

Yet, this leaves me at a loss. Am I meant to improve? Am I meant to get better? How do I measure my own success when I don't even know what I want anymore?

Out of nowhere, a female voice blares, "TAICHI WHERE IS THE PRESENT YOU PROMISED ME-"

I almost drop the beer I've been holding.

"-oh, _Yamato?_ I-I…"

The hairs on my skin are sticking up and I try to calm down my senses as I glance around to the other person who has infiltrated the apartment. Auburn hair, warm almond coloured eyes...she even looks prettier during the day.

A smug smile forms on my lips as I pretend that I hadn't been surprised by her sudden appearance (or screaming if you want to be exact).

"Well, well, well," I chuckle shamelessly. "We meet again, Takenouchi."

Our first encounter is still vivid in my mind, that I can't help but be amused by her presence. I guess I'm not the only special one who has access to Taichi's apartment code. She even knows that I've gone through Taichi's closet when she mentions the bathrobe I'm nestled in. I fill her in that the couple will be back in twenty.

At least I don't have to wait alone. Perhaps I'll mess with her?

Stretching, I gesture for her to take a seat next to me. As expected, her cheeks tinge pink, that to cease myself from dispersing into laughter, I have to bite down on my tongue. Needless to say, she does choose to sit next to me. I watch as she brings her long legs onto the sofa, bringing her knees to her chest. Her fringe falls over her face, as she avoids my eye contact.

Yes. She _definitely_ is cute.

That, or I'm really inexperienced with women now...and meeting new people. Perhaps this is why I'm intentionally messing with her - even flirting - I don't even know what I'm doing. I gotta say that it _is_ amusing though. Or maybe I'm bored?

Observing that she's not in a talking mood, I switch back to the television but I know it's impossible to bask in the sound of the orchestra symphony now that I've got company. Sora isn't bad company, but when I listen to music...sometimes I prefer to listen to it on my own.

So I shift my attention back to her. I tell her she can feast on my Family Mart snacks. She takes my offer and opts for a beer. I question what she wants from Taichi. She avoids the topic and turns it onto me...which is different. Maybe I'm used to hanging around egoistic people who like to brag and talk about themselves, but when Sora doesn't tell me exactly _what_ souvenir she wants, I let it go.

Instead, I concede to talk about myself and how I'm wishfully thinking that Taichi will consider getting me an ABBA vinyl. Which, of course, I know won't ever happen. Taichi's horrible at picking gifts, and even if he's been my best friend over the years he has never bought me anything music related - mainly because he's a cheap bastard. He's rich, but he likes to be cheap. Don't even ask me how that makes sense...because it _doesn't._

Sora pretty much tells me what I'm thinking, even going out of the way to lecturing that I should be 'precise' with what I want from Taichi (like, apparently, she had).

I murmur, "That defeats the purpose of a souvenir though. Won't it ruin the surprise?"

She replies bluntly, "I don't like surprises."

I let out a low whistle.

"Then you're missing out, Sora."

She shrugs, but lets out an infectious laugh that makes me grin.

I have a handful of female friends, but there's something about Sora that is intriguing. Perhaps it's because I don't understand her or the fact that I don't really _know know_ her yet. She's been always that quiet mystery I've been wanting to solve; to meet. And because of this thought, Sora makes for an even more amusing topic.

She's unlike Mimi, who is hysterical, loveable and dramatic. She isn't like Miyako who is a chatterbox, strong-minded, but kindly sympathetic. Nor is she like my brother's partner - Hikari - who is sensitive, gentle and understanding. And Jun...who is flamboyant, loud, and the life of the party.

From the brief period I've encountered Sora, she reserved, yet fun. Free-spirited? Yes. Sora's always traveling from what I've heard. She can take a joke, and won't get offended or take anything personally. Yet she seems to be a bit OCD and controlling, if she is particular about Taichi's souvenir for her?

Then again, who knows? Who am I to judge when I'm still getting to know her?

If I were to joke with Miyako or Mimi, they'd probably bite my head off...but Sora, she seems to laugh everything away. She isn't an open book and, like me, seems to reveal things about herself she _wants_ to, which I think makes one of her appealing attributes to me.

Maybe... _fine_. She is kinda hot too, alright?

Since I don't know what else to do, I make lousy smalltalk. I prattle on about movie soundtracks (because I've changed the channel to some horror film's ending credits); and it's then that Sora makes a comment that makes me chuckle. _Hard._

"-you hold onto music more than a woman."

When I've recovered from my fit of laughter, I question whether it's Taichi who has tipped off this information about me. She tells me that it's actually Mimi who had told her. I shouldn't be too fazed since Taichi and Mimi are already like an old married couple since they've been together way too long and practically tell each other everything.

Since she has gossip on me, I retaliate back, "-is it true that you went skinny-dipping in Mexico?"

Her eyes widen and she splutters out a " _Whattt?"_

She assumes Mimi told her this. I shake my head in reply. "Taichi actually did."

For some reason Sora brings up Miyako. When we're minutes into the conversation, I realise how protective of a friend she is. Perhaps she saw the exchange of Miyako and my words as me flirting with her. I clarify that I see Miyako more as a sister than anything else. And even if I did see Miyako as anything more, I'm not a relationship breaker. Jyou's a good guy, and being with Miyako is almost incest-like. I explain this to Sora because I really don't want her to get the impression that I want to get into Miyako's pants. No way in hell.

We talk more, chattering about our friends in an amused manner to each other. When the conversation dies, Sora rocks back against the sofa and mutters to me, "Thanks of the other night though."

She means it. I mean, Sora already had thanked me during that night, so it doesn't mean she has to thank me again. Her birthday night out seemed to have turned into a disaster, but instead of being grumpy about the night gone wrong, I realise she holds more concern for everybody else. In this case, it's Mimi.

"Is the car all fixed up now? Mimi told me that you were handling the situation."

"All sorted," I respond, simpering. I fill her in that my friend has made the car look brand new, but despite Akira's efforts I state that I'm certain that Taichi will note the damage. And because I'm being restless and feeling childish, I propose we make a bet out of it.

She brings up, "You're excluding the fact that he might not notice at all?"

I state factually, "He'll notice."

Sora sends me a doubtful look, but we make a bet on it. The loser has to give their sovereign to the winner. Since I don't know what I'm getting from Taichi, I don't really care. However, for Sora, the stakes are higher because Taichi has purchased the present she had requested from him. We shake on it, despite Sora being obviously reluctant about the deal.

To be honest, if I am to win...I'm not going to take her souvenir. I'm not that mean. Or am I? I chuckle to myself. Yeah, it _is_ fun messing with her.

When I mention that Taichi and Mimi should arrive at any minute, I bring up the idea of surprising them to her. To my satisfaction, Sora agrees. She rubs her hands together, keen on my evil plotting scheme. "So, Ishida, what's our plan of attack?"

She's not as innocent as I had thought. Then again, Taichi had spoken that Sora had the tendency of teaming up with him and pulling pranks on Mimi. Taichi must have not been lying if Sora looks this eager to catch the pair off guard. I try not to laugh aloud when I catch an excited, yet childish, look appear on Sora's face. We continue to chatter on. Some topics I remember, others I don't. I've found that the longer I talk to Sora, the more comfortable I get. She's quite conversational and easy to talk to.

I turn the lights off, convincing Sora that the kitchen is the best hiding shot we've got. Besides, I don't want to hide anywhere complicated.

We hear the door being unlocked, which is then followed by a loud slam.

Mimi and Taichi are bickering, like the usually do, as they enter their home. I hear their footsteps, which then ceases after a dull thud sounds. From the dim streetlights filtering through the window, I watch as Taichi roughly presses Mimi against the wall. Their tongues are down each other's throats, and they're moaning in a feverish, lustful muddle.

I want to vomit.

" _Holy…"_

I had forgotten Sora's here and is presently gawking alongside me. At least I'm not witnessing this crisis alone. I groan and whisper to her, "Make it stop. My retinas are getting damaged."

Sora puts it back onto me. "Ishida, I blame you. If you hadn't had this idea-"

It only gets worse when Taichi and Mimi fall onto the floor, and they don't even know that they're inches away from us! My throat dries up as Sora and I are exchanging glances of what to do in this situation. She's appalled; I'm disgusted.

Now they're tumbling over each other, both fighting for dominance. Taichi straddles her and as he's about to take his own top off, the first button detaches from his shirt and it rolls all the way to where Sora and I are squatting.

And it's then that scream breaks their making-out session. The scream is so high-pitched that I can feel my eardrums stinging.

On instinct, Taichi pushes Mimi behind him and as he narrows his eyes to see us, he lets out an irritated sigh. "Damn it, guys!"

I complain that the pair have permanently scarred Sora and I. Taichi retaliates by saying it's karma for watching, which is partly true on our half.

"Welcome back, Yagami." Sora lunges at Taichi, giving him a tight embrace. I had always known they were close...but _this_ close?

However, it seems, Taichi won't have any of it. He raises an eyebrow as he stares down at her, "Oh? What do you want?"

I chuckle when I find out that Sora's using desperate measures to get her present. Apparently she had been reminding Taichi during his whole business trip to buy her souvenir. I can't help but feel _really_ curious about the gift that has gotten Sora all worked up. Perhaps it is jewellery? Don't women always like sparkly things?

But for Taichi to get Sora jewellery is even weird for him to do; especially when Mimi gets _very_ jealous easily. (Don't get me started about the period when they first started to date. Mimi had wanted to know Taichi's whereabouts all twenty-four hours of the day. She would have probably installed a GPS app on her phone to track him, if it had been available at that time).

I'm at a loss of words when I see Sora help herself to unzipping Taichi's luggage, scrummaging through the clothings and other foreign objects in search for the thing she couldn't bear to be without. Taichi looks exasperated as he stops her from touching his dirty boxers, and just as he's about slap her out of the way for the millionth time, Sora let's out a cackle at her latest discovery.

"HA! Found it! I love you. Thanks Taichi!"

She's tearing off the bubble-wrap that had been packed securely around the brown object. When the wrap is gone, I see a fuzzy brown bear and watch, astounded, as Sora begins to cradle the stuffed animal like it's her newborn baby.

"Isn't he adorable? How stylish is he? He's got so much personality."

I comment, "You never warned me that Sora has this scary side."

Mimi giggles and Taichi shrugs, as if Sora's display of affections for a teddy bear is a normal feat. She turned thirty the other day and she _still_ likes bears? I laugh.

As mysterious and sophisticated as she is and appears to be; perhaps Sora is more simple than I thought?

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 **(a/n)** If you've read BC, there's no real new content here (besides Yamato's POV, of course). However, because of this the chapter was easy to write despite being overseas (I'm in Taiwan now). Haha. I'll finally write some Taichi x Yamato in the next chapter. I miss writing their bromance. And the chapter after that one will be fun/exciting to write too...a few other new characters. However, from these characters, you will see how they impact Yamato's life and make him who he is. Let's just say, Yamato may have a lot more going on than Sora...

Review Replies

 _Ana Maria_ \- Thanks for reviewing again! Haha. You don't have to write it in English, I'm more than happy to use google translate. :D

 _Yamora_ (lol, since I'm also lazy too haha): Akira is one of my fave OC in this story so far. There will be others, but yes..definitely one of my faves. More of Yamato's life will be explored in this story based on all the new characters introduced in this fanfic.

I'll reply to the other reviews at some point too :) Going to explore Taiwan now! Cheers.


	6. chapter five: the three stooges

" _Even if the lights are turned off._

 _Where would we be?_

 _That's what I am curious about_."

Knock - Zion. T

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 **[LIFELINES]**

chapter five: the three stooges

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I've thrown in the towel.

Sora and I had tried talking Taichi out of going to the garage to see Ayaka-chan, but he's persistent whenever it comes to his baby. Mimi's gonna have to take it all from here. She can't say we didn't try.

I fold my arms, watching the bag in the microwave slowly inflate as it rotates inside the machine for another time.

"You're making popcorn at this _critical_ moment?" Sora says, incredulously.

I explain to her that popcorn is always handy, especially when we're about to witness our best friends bite each other's' heads off. We make small alterations to our bet, with Sora realising that Taichi may well in fact find out about Ayaka's damage tonight. I let her choose the side of Taichi finding out on his own, while I bet that Mimi will spill the beans about the accident first.

I don't have much to lose, anyway. And even if I were to win, what am I going to do with some crummy soccer jersey, _and_ Sora's bear? That thing creeps me out.

We both decide to venture down to the garage to find out the results of our bet. I frown as Taichi studies Ayaka like a hawk. When he bends forward and studies the bumper, he mutters, "What's this scratch over here?"

I choke on some popcorn. Sora's eyes meets mine, mirroring guilt as Taichi drops down to his knees and completely loses it.

"Who the _fuck_ did this to my baby?"

Sora pats my back. I give her a small nod in gratitude as I recover from the popcorn attack. My eyes are pink and teary, but she doesn't poke or tease me about it - not when we've got an fuming Yagami on the loose.

Mimi stammers, "Taichi…I, uh, need to tell you something-"

I flinch at this.

"Yes, _honey_ ," Taichi replies, lethally. His eyes are drifting to her frightened, face. Taichi rarely gets mad. Hell, I get more pissed off than he does. Therefore, this is rather entertaining and scary to simultaneously witness. "Didn't I tell you to let _nobody_ touch Ayaka while I was gone…?"

"We should go now," I mumble under my breath so that only Sora can hear.

Sora supplies me a steady nod, as we quietly try to make a run for it. We both turn around on our heels, making it for the staircase when there's a creak on the top floorboards. I mentally curse to myself.

"You two!" Taichi barks. " _Explain._ "

"It's not their fault!" Mimi cries out, shielding us from her boyfriend's wrath. "It was my idea. I thought it would be a good idea to take Ayaka for a ride on Sora's birthday. We didn't mean for it to happen. We hit a tree and-"

"You hit a _tree_?" Taichi snarls, teeth gnawing. "Do you know how much money, how much time I've spent maintaining Ayaka."

"He's being really annoying right now," Sora murmurs. Her arms are folded as she watches the couple squabble.

"Of course I know!" Mimi shouts back. "You almost spend more time with Ayaka than with me!"

"If the neighbours listened in, they'd actually think that Taichi's having an affair with another lady," I talk back to Sora, who also looks amused. She helps herself, taking another handful of popcorn from me. She munches on as we continue to look at our hopeless friends.

"At least Ayaka isn't as noisy, nagging and as irritating as you are-"

 _Oh, Christ. God save my friend._

Even I might not be a love guru or have as much experience as he does in the love department, but anybody can tell that he's clearly crossing the line here!

Mimi's bottom lip is trembling, Taichi is still glaring and Sora...she charges pass me and marches up to the pair. It's good she's here because that means I don't have to meddle before things escalate any more than they should. She might have called me a life saver, but at this current moment Sora is saving me from dealing with Mimi and Taichi. Kudos to her.

I smirk when I watch as she pushes Taichi out of the way. He glares at her, Sora challenges him back and even kicks him. "You're taking it too far, Tai. Mimi _also_ got injured, you know?"

Taichi's expression falters. He pivots to get a better look at Mimi. The lighting's rubbish, but there's a shadow of a mark behind the loose strands of hair that is covering her temple. "Are you alright, Meems?"

It's a quick transition. Taichi had originally been infuriated and seething. However, now that his anger has sizzled away, he looks more concerned and troubled by the small cut on Mimi's forehead.

"You're a jerk!" Mimi cries out. She huffs, stalking off. Sora sends an exasperated look towards us. She hesitates for a second before she waves farewell to us, following Mimi up the staircase. From the looks of things, Sora looks like she'll settle and calm down Mimi; which leaves me to sort out the fuzzy-headed moron.

I relax my back against the wall, letting out a low whistle. "Good job, Taichi."

"Shut the fuck up, _Ishida_."

"This is _exactly_ why I can't cope being with somebody. Relationships are troublesome." I grunt. "Too much drama."

Taichi laughs, despite it all. "You'll learn one day, Yama-baby...that sometimes you _do_ need somebody to depend on. Somebody who is worth it. You just haven't found her yet."

 _But I thought I had..._

"To commit to one person," I say distractedly and out loud. "Isn't it hard?"

"You wouldn't be in the situation you are in if you just pick a girl and stick to her. It saves you from bad pickup lines, being alone and one night stands. Being with one girl is enough to keep you on your toes, and the make-up sex is always the best after a fight."

"I never said I was alone."

Taichi remarks, "I'm just saying it as a generalisation. Bro, nobody likes being by themselves."

"I had Jun," I point out.

"Jun doesn't count," Taichi snorts.

"And you think this is worth it?" I gesture at his car and at the door that Mimi had stormed out of. "To be _this_ whipped?"

"Mimi will come around. We'll be fine and have it figured out by later tonight. It's natural that we argue. We've got to disagree with each other at some point. Relationships are never perfect, even if it _is_ her fault for crashing my car," Taichi says, bitterly.

I chuckle.

"Besides, Takenouchi will manage her well." Taichi yawns, thankfully diverting the conversation away from how I should find myself a girl. It's not a common thing we talk about, and when the topic is visited I try to avoid talking about it at all costs.

"Yeah. I don't know how Sora can keep being patient when wedged between the two of you."

Taichi says again, "And you've finally met her! We've been meaning to introduce the two of you to each other for _ages_!"

I roll my eyes. I don't need for him to tell me this again, considering the others bring it up enough.

After I run out of popcorn and Taichi doesn't seem as infuriated about his car than he had been (I have a feeling he's going to purchase a new car), we slip out of the garage and make it back to the living room.

"You're not going to wear my souvenir?" Taichi says.

"No. I have no use for it, so I gave it to Sora."

Taichi places his feet onto the coffee table and it's then that he notices the chocolates that I had stolen from his secret stash. He leers it to me. "You've already got my bathrobe on. You've gone through my chocolates _and_ you gave my souvenir away."

"What are friends for?"

It's Taichi's turn to roll his eyes. He swipes up an unopened beer, thumbing the tab off and sipping the foam that immediately forms after it. "Are you bored? Is that why you're here?"

"How can you tell?" I ask.

"Easy. You're usually working your ass off. This is the first time I've seen you _this_ eager about me returning from a business trip."

"True." I stretch my legs. "I don't know what to do with myself. Everybody decided to go on leave when I did, and now that I'm back...there's no work to do."

"Think of it as a blessing."

"It's a blessing; but I'm _still_ bored." I frown. "I really don't know how to use my time-"

"Perhaps, uh - um...breathe?"

"Go fuck yourself."

"Any time, baby," Taichi snickers. He motions his head at the monitor. "What about a game? I think I still can kick your ass at Tekken."

"Bring it."

It takes me back to when we were kids. Playing video games at the old Yagami household. His mother offering us burned pastries and vegetable juice, that we'd sneakily feed their cat (or the birds outside). Taichi and I. We were and are very different people. Perhaps that's how we got along. We were nothing alike, but we complemented each other. He saw the world through positive eyes, I saw the word in a more realistic way.

We'd call each other out whenever we thought the other person was doing or acting wrong. We didn't hold back on insults or overbearing compliments (Taichi loves giving me sloppy kisses on the cheek whenever he's hysterically happy). Whenever I'm going through rough patches, the idiot is one of the few people that can still walk out alive and making me smile.

"I _hate_ when you do guys do this to me."

Koushiro's voice has crept over us screaming at each other to die. My grip loosens around the controller, staring at Koushiro who is now in front of the screen with his hands on his hips. "Why didn't you invite me over? Why do you guys always leave me out?"

"Do friends need an invitation? Yamato treasure-hunted for my precious chocolates _without_ my permission." I punch Taichi on the side. From reading Koushiro's sulky body language, I know he's not in the mood for Taichi's comments.

"I tried calling you. You didn't answer. I even had to double check if your flight had landed to confirm that your plane hadn't crashed."

Taichi scratches the back of his head. "I was distracted."

"But Yamato's here!"

"I invited myself," I say.

Sometimes, I wonder, if Koushiro was a girl perhaps Taichi would be in a relationship with him instead of Mimi?

As over-protective we are of our favourite nerdy genius, Koushiro also takes his over-protectiveness of us to extremes. When there was a KOD anniversary concert, he had even went to certain measures to go over the security systems himself. He's a scary genius and isn't somebody to be messed with.

"Come on, Kou. Here. Take my controller. You can play this game." I hand it over to Koushiro, who leaves the controller hanging in the air.

Koushiro parrots on, "I'm really mad about this, you know?"

Taichi and I nod. "We know."

Whenever Koushiro gets like this, it's best to agree with him. He's more tolerable that way.

"And you shouldn't leave me out all the time. I trust you guys a lot."

"We know."

And, like that, all is forgiven.

Koushiro clears his throat, shoving in between Taichi and I. Like nothing had happened, Koushiro stares at the screen and mutters, "Yamato, why did you pick _Kazuya_? Ryu is stronger and he statistically has a higher probability of winning."

"Can't you see that Taichi picked him already?" I argue, while Taichi chuckles. " _Sucker._ "

When the band picked up, I wasn't around as much. Taichi was focused on university, and I had been preoccupied with the band. University was where Taichi had befriended Kou, and immediately he became an addition to our brotherhood. I thought I wouldn't get along with him at first, but Koushiro grew on me. I realised, we needed him as much as he needed us.

Koushiro gets insecure at times, because he knows Taichi and I have been friends longer, but in all honesty, I feel like I've known Koushiro as long as Taichi. When there's certain things I can't talk to Taichi about, I know that Kou will be there to listen. He really is a good guy.

As per usual, Koushiro kicks our butts at the game. In fact, he _always_ kicks our butts whenever he plays with us. When Taichi and I officially surrender, we turn off the television and we order pizza.

Koushiro questions Taichi where Mimi's at. Taichi explains their 'minor' argument. When Koushiro asks me how my grandparents were, I then remember the delicacies I had forgotten to bring, much to Taichi's utter - and grumpy - dismay.

"And how about you, Kou?" I ask him. "Anything been going on asides that launch you've been preparing for?"

"No."

"Nothing?" Taichi waggles his eyebrows. "No women?"

"No- _yes_!"

The stutter raises mine and Taichi's interests. Koushiro typically dodges, ignores and hardly stumbles over his words when we ask about women in his life. We had already given up on it, to the point that Taichi has even said that if he announced himself 'gay', we'd be happy to accept him. So...this is new.

"So there _is_ a woman," I conclude, lips quirking upwards.

"No-I... _fine_." Koushiro admits. "She is quite nice."

"Quite nice?" Taichi repeats, sniggering.

Blood rushes to Koushiro's cheeks. "No-I-I don't know? H-how do you know if they like you?"

Taichi hits him on the arm while I guffaw out loud. The smartest man I know is not the slightest bit bright whenever it comes to his love life. At least I'm not _as_ bad whenever it comes to wooing a woman.

"Pics or she doesn't exist," Taichi demands.

Koushiro pulls out his phone and goes through his contacts.

"You have her details? And photos of her?" I remark. Since when has Koushiro been _this_ smooth.

Koushiro reveals, "She works for me."

" _Shit_ son." Taichi is suffocating from laughing so much. When I look over Koushiro's shoulder, I glance at a stunning blue-eyed woman. Her hair is blond and long and her smile... _wow._ I nod in approval. "She's a looker."

"I don't have a chance," Koushiro groans.

Taichi reassures, "We'll groom you to your full potential."

"That's _exactly_ what I'm worried about."

My amusement dies away when I feel my phone vibrate. I read my manager's name on the screen. It's unlike him to call me this late, especially when he had told me that there wouldn't be any work today. I then note on the corner of the screen that I've had other missed calls and texts.

"YAMATO!" My manager yells. " _Why_ haven't you been picking up your phone?"

I mumble my reason, "Sorry, Satou-san, my phone was on silent-"

"Takashi is missing!"

I frown. Lately, even the mentioning of the former KOD electric guitarist makes me frown. I shake my head. He can't be possibly missing. I exhale, "Doesn't he have a gig with _Wired_ in Hokkaido tomorrow?"

"He's not picking his phone up. He missed his evening flight and I can't get hold of him." Satou's voice is shaking in distress.

Although Takashi isn't the most social being, he isn't the type of person to miss a flight. He usually has everything together. Usually…I grimace.

"I'll find him," I tell my manager.

I hurriedly tear off Taichi's bathrobe, replacing it with my leather jacket. Koushiro and Taichi exchange looks with me and I give them a grim look back. I gesture them a farewell, scrambling down the hallway. I quickly lace up my shoes and make a run for it down the street, hailing the first cab I can see.

* * *

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 **(a/n)** So..I kinda just deleted my a/n just then. Lucky it wasn't the chapter xD Phew. Haha.

Um. This chapter was weird to write considering the last chapter I wrote was for Bittersweet - which is 'technically' the same story, but not. Haha.

I enjoyed writing the Yamato x Taichi x Kou part. It was originally just going to be Yamato x Taichi, but it felt fun to add Koushiro to the mix - especially when they're bullying him. Bahaha.

Thanks for reading :)

More new material will be up in the next chp. I think Sora will come back the chapter after the next one.


	7. chapter six: sarcasm & truths correlate

_I want to return  
_ _to the days of  
_ _innocence;_

 _When my backpack  
_ _was heavier than  
_ _my responsibilities_

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(us against the world - epik high)

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* * *

 _ **.**_

 **.**

 **.**

 **[LIFELINES]**

chapter six: when sarcasm and truths correlate

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.

* * *

He's breathing.

It's a good thing; possibly the _only_ good thing going on for me right now.

I crouch down, squatting onto the floor to grab his hand, checking his pulse. His radial pulse is albeit irregular, but at at least it's beating - another good thing.

Withdrawing a sigh, my legs give way as I collapse besides him.

 _Takashi's fine._ I shake my head. As fine as he will ever get; if you call a mid-thirty man passed out on the floor 'fine'.

His stomach is on the ground, legs played out. Additionally, Takashi's shirt is shredded, skin clammy, arms scattered with bruises, face frail and gaunt, lips dry, and hair greasy and unkempt. I crinkle my nose, wondering when the last time Takashi had hit the shower. He smells like he's dunked his whole body into a dumpster of rotten garbage.

From where I'm sprawled, it's only now I glimpse his other hand clutching onto a used syringe. I shuffle closer to the guitarist, peeling each of his fingers until the syringe falls to the floor. I carefully pick the syringe up and discard it into the trash can.

With one form of evidence visible, there's a high chance that there are more drugs around here.

I start my hunt, cursing when I find a couple of unused, capped syringes and small plastic packets of white powder dispersed on the bed. I slip them into my pockets. I then find another used syringe in the bathtub when I search through the bathroom, and another one on the balcony.

 _At least he hadn't jumped off it…_

The thought of this makes me light-headed. I shudder, pinching the bridge of my nose. I slowly exhale and inhale.

 _Relax, Yamato. You're overreacting. Takashi's fine. He's alive. There's nothing to worry about. Takashi is good..._

Although I repeat the constant mantra in my mind, I'm already stumbling back into the bathroom. My head barely makes it over the toilet bowel as I barf out my stomach's contents into it. My eyes are watering as I feel the bile burn up my throat. I heave in and out, glad it's over. As I wipe my eyes, then lips, with the back of my sleeve I suddenly feel a hand stroking my back in a steady, calming motion.

I crane my head and see a familiar shade of copper in my blurred vision. "Jun?"

"Akira too. He's with Takashi."

Hardly managing to get up, I shrug her off as I make it for the basin. As I wash my hands, I'm thankful that Jun's not asking if I'm alright. However, I catch her watching me from the reflection in the mirror.

I hate it when she looks at me like that. She's here because I hadn't thought it through. In my state of panic, when I had been frantically trying to locate Takashi, I had accidentally added her to the group chat. I don't like including Jun in our band business, but sometimes I forget she has the right to know what's going on because I consider her as one of the boys.

Jun's been with us since the beginning of KOD, and had been a continuous support of mine from even when I was in high school. To say that she isn't a close friend would be a lie. Sure, we screwed around a lot...but that didn't mean she didn't care for me; as much as I had cared about her.

"Day off?" I make small talk.

We hadn't seen each other properly since we had formally ceased sleeping together. And, ironically, the last time we had been together had been in this exact hotel penthouse.

"Night off." She corrects me, leaning against the doorframe. "When Yutaka mentioned the hotel, I came bolting."

"We're lucky he's here. I freaked out when I couldn't find him in his apartment…"

I really had. His door was left wide open. His place looked like it had been ransacked. Everything was out of order, from the upside-down table to clothing scattered and dispersed in almost all areas of his home. Shirts in the hallway, socks on the sofa, and even a flannel having had made its way to the front door. However, what had scared the shit out of me was that Takashi had been nowhere to be seen.

People in my life tend to disappear; and when they do...there's often a bad meaning behind it. The last person who had gone was father, but it had been inevitable since it was cancer that had grudgingly took him away. And, well, I was not ready to Takashi to leave yet. I've dealt with enough people leaving.

If it hadn't been for Yutaka mentioning that he had last seen Takashi at the hotel, my search for the guitarist would have been fruitless. I had been _so_ close to calling the police. I'm still thankful that I hadn't been too late; that Takashi was passed out. That he wasn't... _dead._

When you've got an unstable friend like Takashi, you can't help but expect the worst. You don't know where he'll go and what he'll do. His way of thinking has been altered, all thanks to his stimulant abuse, that he no longer can differentiate from right and wrong. Additionally, he's stubborn as fuck. (Then again, all of the band members are).

I'm just glad Takashi hadn't been found overdosed in an alleyway. At least he had common sense to get high here. This penthouse has served many purposes over the years KOD has owned it. This penthouse had been the band's first shared investment. We had made it ours, each of us members using it for our own needs, whether for group activities, band jamming, as well as for own solo purposes...if you know what I mean. When one of us _does_ use the penthouse, we always inform each other whenever we occupy it.

Luckily, Yutaka now works at the Grand Hyatt as the lobby and bar pianist. If he hadn't spotted Takashi last night, we would have no leads because Takashi sure as hell didn't inform any of us of his whereabouts.

During the time I had been acquainted with the toilet bowl, Yutaka had somehow manoeuvred Takashi to the bed all by himself. For having delicate pianist fingers, he wasn't to be taken for granted with the strength he harboured (he always beats me at arm wrestling).

"I'm too old for this," Yutaka groans, when he sees Jun and I hovering at the bedside. "Even after I finish my shift, I still find myself at my work. Takashi's so god damn irresponsible. We can't babysit forever. I'm fucking sick of him doing this to us."

"He doesn't do it intentionally," I frown, observing Takashi's passed out figure. "He's got his own things going on."

Yutaka uses the back of his hand, deliberately nudging Takashi's face to obtain some kind of reaction from him. Takashi mumbles something incoherent in reply. Yutaka taps him on the cheek again.

" _Fuck off_." At least we know he's responsive and not completely out of it.

Yutaka rolls his eyes. He's generally a happy person, but whenever Takashi's involved, he's quite the opposite. Sometimes I think this is the main reason why our group separated. Friction between the members, Takashi's addiction, our own personal change of goals.

"You'd think that after our band had separated, Takashi would get his shit together...but _no_. We aren't getting any younger, Yamato. And yet, here he is, getting high whenever he gets the chance to." Yutaka grunts.

I remark, "He doesn't always."

Yutaka shoots me a look.

"Can we stop arguing?" Jun glares at the both of us. "We're lucky that we found him."

She's right. I can't fight against that, nor can Yutaka - even if it's begrudgingly.

It kind of hurts, you know? Seeing Takashi like this. He was the senior I always looked up to. The person that taught me how to play the guitar. An idol. I remember watching him busk as a teenager, in front of Palette Town. He's strum his electric guitar with minimal effort, and I'd be speechless and gawking by how seamlessly he'd perform. Takashi was like an older brother who had taken me in when my world was falling apart.

Hell, they all were.

"I need to pick Ari-chan from your sister-in-law's now," Yutaka says, scratching the back of his head.

I had almost forgotten that Hikari looks after Yutaka's daughter a few, select days a week. Despite Yutaka getting paid well for his job, his partner was a spitfire and refused to become a stay-at-home mother, choosing to work at a prestigious law firm.

Just as we exchange goodbyes and Yutaka leaves, my phone vibrates. I grimace at my manager's name. _Again..._

Jun gestures for me to answer the call, so I do.

"Satou-san?" I murmur.

"WHERE IS TAKASHI?" I flinch, holding the phone away from my ear. Jun sends me a questioning look, clearly hearing my manager screeching on the other line.

"I found him," I admit, "But he...he's sick right now."

"Well, that's not good enough! He could have called in earlier to let me know! How can I find a last minute guitarist-"

"I'll do it," I volunteer. "I'll fill in."

Jun shakes my head at me, clearly unhappy with my decision.

 _Wired_ is a relatively new band, that had debuted last March. If _Wired_ performs without a guitarist, the band will be screwed, consequently making our label look bad. It's already bad enough that the band's lead guitarist had broken his wrist during a snowboarding incident, but to have the back up guitarist not turn up too...damn it Takashi. As well as the band looking bad on stage, the bad media would make us look even more terrible if not guitarist accompanied the band. I couldn't afford this to happen. I have to do it. Besides, I already know most of Wired's chords and music, considering I had assisted them when composing their first album.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," I say. "You know I'm the only one who can pull it off right now. Anyway, there's no work for me at the studio currently because all our other artists on break."

"You're a lifesaver. I owe you. Let me call the flight company to see if I can arrange for you to take Takashi's spot on the plane instead. I had change the time to a flight just before midnight. Will you make it on time?"

I reply, "Yes."

After confirming more details with my manager, I hang up the phone.

"Yamato, you can't keep covering up for Takashi's forever," Jun warns me, despite her running her fingers through Takashi's hair.

"I know," I admit. "But this is...it's urgent."

"Sure it is," Jun scoffs. "Like the other times."

I pull my jacket back on, hesitating as I look at Takashi and then at her. "Can I leave you with him?"

"Do I even have the option of saying no?" Jun responds. "You're _so_ lucky I have the night off."

I give her a pleading look. "Make sure he gets hydrated too. If his pulse gets too fast, just take him to emergency or ring Miyako. He'll hate it, but just do it anyway."

She nods, flicking her left wrist in a shooing motion. "You owe me, Ishida. I expect a souvenir from Hokkaido. An expensive one."

"Done," I reply.

After all, I really _do_ owe Jun.

.

* * *

.

"You look like shit."

Trust my brother to be so blunt.

"I know," I reply.

My few days up in Northern Japan had been gruelling. The gigs weren't the problem. I managed to learn the songs easily.

However, it was more the partying I couldn't deal with. The band members of _Wired_ are in their early twenties, and relatively new to the spotlight , so they were bound to let loose and go extreme. During the beginning of KOD, I know we had. Feeling too old to deal with the band's crazy escapades, I had opted to sit out this one.

The hotel room had been cosy. I had luckily scored it to myself. Despite it all, it made no difference because I was sandwhiched between the vocalist and the drummer's room. I couldn't sleep at all. The vocalist had hosted a rowdy party for two nights in a row, and the drummer had been sleeping with different women consecutively.

And just when I had thought KOD had been bad...

Yes, I hadn't been able to sleep at all.

"I'm not joking," Takeru says, eyes crinkling in amusement. "You _really_ do like shit."

"Why, thank you," I snap back.

Regardless, Takeru tackles me for my luggage and manoeuvres it into the boot. I take my cue and take my seat in shotgun, while he perches himself onto the driver's seat. We're driving out of Haneda Airport, and I parrot on about how bad his driving is. If we're talking speed, I've always been the faster (and better) driver, but if we're talking about a hazard on the road - it's definitely Takeru.

I groan as we barely make it past a red light.

"If you can't handle my driving; will you be able to handle my kids tonight?" Takeru queries.

I remark, "They're better than dealing with you."

Takeru takes one hand off from the steering wheel, turning his head to me. "You hurt me so-"

"Look straight ahead!" I cry out. "Christ! You almost knocked out those pedestrians!"

"It's not my fault they weren't looking. I hate it when people text and walk. They should get fined for it."

"Not as much as you not being able to-KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE GODDAMN ROAD!" I bellow, gripping onto the bottom of my seat for dear life. I let out a sigh or relief when we're out of the danger zone from colliding into another vehicle.

Takeru defends himself, "That's not my fault either! He was meant to give way to me!"

" _Right_ ," I roll my eyes.

I immediately regret asking Takeru to pick me up from the airport. Then again, I had promised him the favour because today's Takeru and Hikari's anniversary. And, whenever I can, I've always arranged with the couple to babysit the kids every Thursday. It was a break for them, and it gave me the chance to look after my cute nephews and niece. They're adorable. And no, I am _not_ being biased; I'm just being the ultimate doting favourite uncle. My life is tiring enough, but the tiredness has a tendency of simmering away when I interact with them. I couldn't do it full-time though. I'd rather borrow children than own them.

"Are you sure you'll be alright with my little rascals tonight?" he double checks.

Takeru is doubting me, making sure I'm in the right state of mind - something he always does to me - like it's his duty to permanently bother me.

I nod.

Takeru glimpses me from the corner of the eye and states, "You're exhausted, Yamato."

"I'm always exhausted," I blandly respond. "It's who I am. Therefore, you need not worry. I won't slip and hit my head, and fall into a coma...if that's what you're worried about."

"Sarcasm wasn't needed, you depressing fuck."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "Oh?"

Takeru scowls at me. "Sometimes you say things; and you actually mean it. Your sarcasm isn't always false."

"I'm joking."

"You'd better be."

If there's anything that gets under Takeru's skin, is joking about health. Takeru's already sadistic, he makes crude remarks, but whenever you joke about life and death with him, he gets all prickly. As for me, my humour can be quite dark when I'm, well...feeling like shit.

I reassure him, "I'm just tired, Takeru."

Takeru gives a slight nod, but I know he's not entirely convinced by how tense his jaw is.

We arrive at my brother's place. As we enter the household and Risa's already racing for me, cackling in bubbly laughter. I reach out to grab her, holding her up in the air. "Hello, _Hime-sama_. I've missed you, beautiful."

"Uncle Yamato!" she giggles, when I carefully place her back to the ground.

Hikari smiles at me in greeting, passing baby Keita for Takeru to hold. In the mean time Hiroto has begun savagely stabbing Takeru's thigh with a green foam sword. Serves him right from all those collisions we almost had when he had been driving...

Takeru cradles Keita, a grin forming on his lips. "Yamato, I'm giving you a chance to decline looking after these misfits. It's alright to be selfish, I know you're already tired-"

"You're not going on a date with Keita, Takeru! Yamato said he'll do it, and we are _not_ cancelling our booking!" Hikari steps on Takeru's foot, and I burst out laughing.

"Fine." Takeru caves.

"When you have children one day, Yamato, I swear we'll return the favour," Hikari tells me, despite it being darn obvious that it won't be happening any time soon.

Takeru snorts. "We'll be having grandchildren by the time he even thinks about settling down."

"Perhaps," I say. "I'm still in disbelief that you're still with this idiot, Hikari. I don't know how you cope with my brother."

She smiles, punching me softly on the shoulder. "Oh, shut up, Yamato."

I've know the woman since we've been children. She's been like a sister to me. When I had befriended Taichi, it was only natural that Taichi's younger sister meet my brother. Whenever Taichi and I would hang out, Hikari would tag along and play with Takeru. Hikari and Takeru became best friends; and the same could be said about Taichi and I.

When Takeru and Hikari came clean, finally admitting that they were together, I hadn't been surprised at all. Well, _maybe_ Taichi had been (because he can be a bit of bonehead sometimes), but I had been betting it from the beginning. I knew that my brother and his sister would get together. I don't often believe in fate, but Takeru and Hikari were destined to be together.

Takeru carefully places Keita in my arms, before getting into his coat. He holds hand out to Hikari who, giggles, and takes it. They walk out arm-in-arm, not bothering to wave to me as they shut the door behind me.

I lean against the closed door, holding Keita, and gazing down at little Risa and Hiroto. I smirk down at them. "Guess you guys are stuck with me."

* * *

.

 **(a/n)** Another glimpse into Yamato's world. Sorry that this is late. There are a few things I might fix up in this chapter, but yeah..Yamato's selectively quite dark around particular people. His story is a bit more complex than Sora's...which was why I couldn't just write from Sora's perspective in Bittersweet because there's _more_ to Yamato's story.

Hope you liked this chapter. xox Will reply to reviews eventually. Thanks for reading!

random note: ' _hime-sama_ ' means princess :)


	8. chapter seven: light and subtle

_Find me skipping stones,_

 _yeah, washed up rocks_

 _Holding out for something_

 _I can't force_

 _What am I missing?_

 _Oh, baby, what am I missing?_

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(skipping stones - gallant ft. jhené aiko)

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* * *

 _ **.**_

 **.**

 **.**

 **[LIFELINES]**

chapter seven: light & subtle

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* * *

I don't expect Sora to turn up at my brother's place in the middle of the night, but well...she's here.

Hair up in a bun, cheeks pink from the chilly evening breeze, and her deep burgundy coloured eyes were wide in panic. Something's riled Sora up. And, from how she's now staring at me, I know that I'm not the person she's looking for.

" _Miss Takenouchi_?"

Sora tells me off for addressing her by her surname, making it clear that she prefers me using her given name instead. She's trying to hide her mood, but I won't have any of it. If something's bothering her, she might as well say what's wrong.

"You're upset."

She frowns, evident that she doesn't like where the conversation is going. Perhaps she has a right to. It's not like we're close enough for me to prod her until she gives me her life story. Then again, I don't really want more drama or baggage to listen to because I've clearly had enough from my own share.

I almost stumble over when little Risa crashes behind my right knee, sticking her head out to peak at the newcomer. "Sowa, why are yew sad?"

On cue, Hiroto materialises and jumps in front of us, thrusting a plastic katana in front of us, cutting through the air to cause damage to an invisible enemy. "Aunt Sora! You're sad? Who made you sad? I'll slay them! I'll protect you, I promise!"

I murmur, "I guess you have yourself a samurai at your bidding."

God, these kids are adorable. This is exactly why I don't mind looking after them. I catch Sora's gaze, but she doesn't seem as amused as I am inwardly. She seems lost. Perhaps she's not used to dealing with children. It's kind of cute catching her off guard, being all uncomfortable.

Not that I'm a sadist or anything - because that's purely Takeru.

She shrugs, squatting down to meet Hiroto's level and suddenly the conversation takes a turn. She tells him that she wishes he'd be older so that she could marry him.

I snort.

Hiroto's elated by this false news. Skipping around us now and announcing to the world that Sora's going to marry him. I remark, "That also sounds kind of paedophilic on your behalf. You shouldn't say things like that. You'll keep his hopes up and he might actually believe it."

I don't want Sora to be the cause to my nephew's first heartbreak. Now, that's just cruel.

She reasons out for a bit longer, and we agree to conclude that she's had a bad day. At least she's admitting it now. She mightn't tell me everything, but there is a meaning why she has spontaneously chosen to visit my brother's place.

I catch her shivering, so I motion for her to go inside. She takes the invitation. As I'm about to ask her if she wants any of the curry rice I've made the kids for dinner, baby Keita begins to loudly bawl. "Come inside." I apologetically glance at briefly at her, dashing inside for the baby.

The rascal stops wailing as soon as I pick him up from the crib. His bleary blue eyes reflect against mine. I hold him upright, rubbing the patch of fuzzy, light brown hair on his head. I'm humming him a lullaby tune by the time I step into the living room.

Sora's already there. She's observing the disarray around us, like we're in the middle of a living war zone. I smirk. She removes a _Barbie_ doll from the sofa, placing it on the coffee table, before finally taking a seat down.

Sensing my presence, she looks up and smiles when she sees me nursing baby Keita in my arms. She finally asks, "Where's Takeru and Hikari?"

"They're on a date."

I further explain to her about my brother and his wife's Thursday routine and how I end up being the one suckered into babysitting their children (which I enjoy a heap, but don't tell Takeru that). She's shocked by how romantic they are and how good they are doing well at keeping their married life healthy.

My phone rings.

Scratching the back of my head with my free hand, I hunt for my phone. I find it on the coffee table, sandwiched between an unfinished bowl of curry rice and the _Barbie_ doll Sora had grasped onto earlier.

"Hold him." Before Sora protests, I place Keita carefully into her arms.

Sora looks flustered holding Keita. She's holding Keita like he's glass, scared that he might shatter in her arms. After adjusting to the position, I see her lean over to the baby, sticking her tongue out. Immediately, Keita is gargling in laughter.

Maybe I'm too focused on Sora interacting with Keita, that I actually miss the call.

My eyes scan over the missed caller, and I hold my breath when I realise it's Jun who has called. I mean, of course she has to call now. She knows I'm back already? Did she ring up the boys to find out when I'd return from Hokkaido already? Or is it some bad news? I sigh. I really don't want to hear any more of it.

Curiosity obviously gets the best of me because soon I'm returning the call, positioning the phone between my ear and shoulder. It dials a few times out until she answers, "You're back."

"Of course I am," I grumble back. "What?"

"We need to talk about Takashi."

"Is it urgent?"

She admits, "No."

"Can't we save it for another time then?"

"We need to really talk about it though, Yamato."

I know Jun has good intentions, but I'm tired. Well, I was prior to seeing the children. However, after hearing Jun's voice and her bringing up Takashi, it's made me suddenly lethargic. It's not fair. I shouldn't be like this, I know I shouldn't...but can't I have a break _just_ for a second?

"I'm babysitting." I prattle and excuse, even though it technically _is_ true.

"Yes, but-"

Staring up at the ceiling, I tap my foot in impatience. "Yeah, yeah. Another time, Jun."

She sounds irritated on the other line so I mention _again_ that I'm at Takeru's and I offer that we catch up tomorrow instead in person. Jun settles for this arrangement, and I eagerly hang up the phone.

My back sinks into the cushioning of the sofa, my fingers are typing messages for the rest of the old KOD members with the update and questioning them if Jun had wanted to see them too.

I don't get the chance to wait for any responses from my old band because Sora speaks up, "Girlfriend?"

"No," I deny.

Jun and I were never designed to be a couple, and even more so now because she's become a fully-fledged lesbian.

I rest my head on the a cushion, switching on the television. Even though I hadn't been on the phone long enough with Jun, I suddenly feel quite drained.

"So you're seeing her?" Sora assumes, continuing the conversation.

 _Why_ is she asking me this? I suspiciously glance at her, but she's busily poking at Keita's chubby legs. Sora seems reserved, but why is she interested to know if I'm dating Jun? Could she be interested in me or is she simply genuinely curious?

"Hm, not really," I reply, rather dismissively. I'm lying, but it's worth seeing her lips curve every-so-slightly downwards.

Yeah, she's cute. I fight back a grin. And with her asking me if I'm dating somebody, would that mean she's single too?

 _Don't be an idiot, Yamato. Don't flirt with her._

Nothing good comes from getting yourself tangled with a woman who is friends with all of your friends...

Perhaps I'm gazing at her too long because she's nervously tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, shoulders hunched as she cradles Keita closer.

I break the ice by ranting about the latest soccer game, remembering clearly how much of a soccer fanatic she is like Taichi. It's not often you come across a woman who loves her sports. She's excited about the new topic change, eyes shining as she animatedly chatters on and on about soccer.

Risa and Hiroto sleepily climb onto my lap, and I find myself talking more to Sora.

Sora's _very_ passionate about traveling. She likes to bite her bottom lip a lot, and she tends to fiddle with her hands a lot. She's an only child. She adores Takeru like an annoying sibling she has never had. She cares a lot about our friends, giving me the update on all of their lives and letting me know how worried she is of Miyako, and how she isn't getting much sleep from the nursing shift work.

I recognise that her perfume is _Chloé_ because my mother had a phase when she was obsessed with the scent. It's nice on her - light, subtle and not too overbearing. It's like her personality. Sora's not over the top; she's easy to talk to. There's something about her presence that's calming and warm. Not a lot of people can make me feel at ease, but she's doing it naturally.

It's no wonder why she gets along well with all our friends, as each one of them individually (especially when grouped together) are a cluster of headaches. They're all lunatics, really.

"Bro! You haven't killed our kids, have you? It's sounding awfully _quiet_ in here…"

Takeru's voice clamours, barging in our conversation. I let out a groan. Sora watches in amusement as by younger brother and his wife amble into the living room, hand in hand. Not a lot of couples can get away with pulling the sappy card, especially since they've been together since the start of time, but they're an exception.

They do a double take when they see that their passed out children _and_ Sora are on the sofa with me.

Hikari exclaims, "Sora?"

"Hey," she greets them.

Takeru's snickering at me. If the kids weren't sleeping on my lap, I'd punch him by now. I feel like the older we get, Takeru sure is becoming more intolerable. He prides himself in annoying me, as he mutters that it's Sora who's the better babysitter.

Hikari retrieves Keita from Sora's arms and she exchanges a few silent words with her. Obviously it's not Takeru who Sora's come to see. Sora has been waiting for Hikari to say something...that may be _important_? But to come over to my brother's household, and wait, at night? I wonder what's eating Sora - especially when she seems so carefree and-

"Help me get them to bed," Takeru nudges his head at his children who are comfortable splayed on top of me. "I'll take Risa."

"No, you take Hiroto and I'll carry Risa," I state, knowing my brother too well. He wants to get out of the difficult task of lifting Hiroto because he is heavier than my niece.

My body aches from sitting too long as I stretch my legs, following Takeru to Risa and Hiroto's bedroom. As we leave, I notice Hikari gesture Sora to the kitchen.

Looks like girls' talk, I confirm to myself. Definitely girls' talk.

Takeru doesn't fail to catch my last glimpse at the girls. When we're in the bedroom he targets me with one of his immensely stupid smirks.

"Sora's single, ya know?"

I roll my eyes, tucking Risa under her sheets. Takeru chuckles, doing the same for Hiroto-kun and kissing his son on the forehead. "I'm just sayin'. Sora has no dark history, no criminal record and she won't steal your money if that's what you're worried about."

I say, coldly, "I'm not worried about anything."

"She's quite the looker too, isn't she _onii-chan_?" Takeru really doesn't know when to stop. "If I wasn't married, I'd go for her. I mean, it is promising considering she didn't leave or cower away from you when she found out that Hikari and I were out. Seriously, if Sora survived being in your presence, I reckon it's a good thing."

"Well, isn't that good for you?" I say sarcastically.

I'm already retreating from the bedroom. Takeru trails behind me, shutting the door behind us. He raises an eyebrow at me, grinning foolishly. "Well?"

"Fuck off."

.

* * *

.

Kneeling on one knee, I diligently put a 600ml can of _Kirin_ in front of the headstone. I light up a cigarette, resting it on top of the beer can. The cigarette tip burns, creating a long thread of smoke, floating upwards and accompanying the soft breeze, that's also tickling through my hair.

I stand up, bow, and then clap my palms together. My legs collapse onto the grass. I sit down and scrutinise the name engraved into the cement slate.

 _Ishida Hiroaki_

He's amongst the other graves, clinically aligned in precision. Another person, buried beneath the earth. Before he had died, I had queried why he had wanted to be lowered into the ground. My father told me that he was scared to burning would hurt if he were to be cremated. I said that being burnt to ashes would be less restricted; he scolded me and told me that I wasn't the one dying.

Our conversations before his death were weird like that. We talked about dark things like it was a normal conversation. Sometimes I think of my dad as an older brother than a father. Perhaps because were two men, and how he was always honest with me. There were no secrets kept between us, as we had promised each other to not hide anything from one another after the divorce. Mens' code, I guess...despite me hardly being close to a man when I was merely a child.

 _Am I even a man now, dad?_ I wonder quietly, continuing to gaze at the burning cigarette on top of the beer can.

Cigarettes and beer made him. I could have brought fruit, tea and flowers...but the thought of bringing any of them would be an insult to my father.

I don't know why I'm visiting him. It's not his death anniversary, nor his birthday. I had been helping Wired with the composition of new songs all day, so I wouldn't say I've had an easy day either. Instead of heading toward home after work, I drove the opposite direction. My mind had already decided that I had wanted to go the cemetery before I knew it.

Or maybe it's because I'm due to visit dad…

To think he's under the earth now. It still doesn't seem real. I still hear him swearing when he hurts himself on the stove, or how his head would bop to the simple beat from a song by _The Beatles_. Whenever a bystander would smokes the same cigarette brand he used to, I'm constantly reminded of him. Isn't it funny how quickly things can change? One moment a person can be breathing; another time…

I close my eyes tightly, willing the sudden anxiety to seep out of my pores.

"Hey dad. You know it would be easier to talk to you if you weren't a slate of cement," I say. I'm uttering garbage, but it's keeping me from losing it. The thought of crying is already making me tired. I can't afford to break into tears because then I'll end up turning into a waterfall of sorrows.

My father and I had never kept secrets from each other, but I didn't selectively tell him everything. We'd talk about stupid things, never serious, always laced in sarcasm and blunt honesty. Although Takeru was raised by mother, he takes after my dad when it comes to the wit department.

I blubber on because I don't know what else to do.

"Remember that time when you lectured me about how I had made the wrong decision to pursue music? What if I had listened to you? I could have studied further, graduated like the others, gotten a job that would make ends meet, and even be married right now and have kids. Maybe I'd be happier? I remember that period when I had a fascination for space, and was even keen about taking a course specialising in aerospace engineering. It's funny because I've never really thought about it until recently. Music has always been my driving force, but lately...I don't know - I feel like I'm missing something."

Exhaling, I lean back onto the grass. I take out a second beer from my jacket pocket, thumbing the tab off.

After taking a sip, I keep speaking, "I don't regret it though, taking this path. But I'm happy that you didn't completely dismiss how I had wanted to become a musician. You asked me if it was what I really wanted; and - at that time - I told you it was. We didn't argue after that. And maybe, well...I never thanked you for it."

"Do you know that it's easier talking to you like this because you're not talking back? If you were here, I don't think I'd ever be able to more my thoughts out like this, or admit to you all these unresolved feelings right now. However, I feel like I need to right now. Even though I'm flooding you with all my thoughts as well, you were always I could confide in, dad. And, well, you're not here anymore..."

I dryly chuckle. I need to stop getting all sentimental. I change course to the one-sided conversation. "If you want the update; everybody's doing well. The grandparents are expecting grandchildren from me. Takeru's children are little menaces, you would have loved them though. Mother thinks I'm still a little boy. And, wait for this, can you _believe_ that she thinks I'm still partying these days? She still hates my career. Takeru hasn't stopped supplying her with gossip magazines that feature my name in it. I'd get you to tell Takeru off for me, but even if you were here I don't think he'd ever stop. He enjoys watching me squirm. You know how your idiot son is."

I smile at the sky.

"As for me? Your favourite son? I think you already know I'm a bit lost at the moment. I'm concerned about a friend going down the wrong path. I get queasy when I get on airplanes, when I never used to, and I _now_ understand why you were such a big _B'z_ fanboy. Don't laugh. That guitarist, _man_ , he's good. I've seen them live and they sound _spectacular_. Makes me miss performing with KOD. Oh, and yeah...we've split up, but you probably already knew that."

My voice is scratchy by the end of my spiel. I had spoken more, but I don't recall much of it. It's cathartic and satisfying letting it all out.

I'm about to get up, and leave the cemetery until my phone rings. In a daze, I answer, "Taichi?"

Taichi always has a knack for calling at the right time. It's like he had sensed my unknown distress because he then says, "Is something up?"

"Why would you think that?"

He rambles, "Hikari mentioned it. Well, she gathered as much from Takeru. Apparently Takeru thinks you're overworking again. Didn't you just come back from annual leave? Have you ever thought of taking it easy, Yamato?"

"Tai, you're one to talk," I dully comment. "You work just as hard as I do. It's a miracle how Mimi copes with you"

He ignores my remark. "Want to grab some beers with me tonight? We're due for a good quality catch up. Say...8pm at your place? I'll bring food and Koushiro."

"Tonight?" I'm not convinced. "How about another night because I've already made plans tonight..."

 _With my bed -_ but I don't tell him that.

"Fine, fine," Taichi scowls on the other line, tone unimpressed that I've rejected his offer. With each year added to our friendship, I feel like my best bud has become much more clingy with me. He queries, "When can I see you then?"

"I'm busy all week," I reply. "But feel free to drop by the studio. Your work is near mine anyway. I can arrange for my breaks around you, but you have got to give me notice prior."

He proceeds to yap on about Mimi and how she's _'apparently'_ been PMSing more lately. As much as I don't mind talking to Taichi, I'm not really in the mood to right now. I need to leave the cemetery, get home and sleep. I result to blocking Taichi out by responding to him with close-ended answers.

Taichi gets snippy with me when he realises that I'm half-listening to him. Feeling vengeful, he gets back at me by murmuring, "So, I also heard that you babysat by niece and nephews last week. Tell me... _why_ was Sora there?"

" _Bye_." I hang up the phone.

I already get enough of this nonsense from Takeru.

* * *

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 **(a/n)** Sorry for the lateness! Will reply to the reviews, and edit this chapter later, on this week. Thanks for reading. xox

Ana Maria: Yes, I can definitely say that Yamato's life is much more complicated than Sora's ... which was another reason why this parallel story had to be told. Thanks for reading :)


	9. chapter eight: one of a kind

_while looking at the moon rising in the sky_

 _we've swimmed in countless nights_

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(moon - offandoff)

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* * *

 _ **.**_

 **.**

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 **[LIFELINES]**

chapter eight: one of a kind

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* * *

Rubbing my chin, I lean on the edge of my seat as I study the singer from behind the thick glass. "Miho, I suggest you tone it down. The vibrato was not needed at the end of that line."

"One of the days you're going to murder me, Ishida. Has anybody told you that you're OCD?" The vocalist complains into the mic, voice echoing. "You've been gruelling me all day. I hate you."

"That's what I'm here for," I tell her. "Deal with it."

She huffs, blowing the stray hairs away from her face. Miho's got a good voice. However, the genre she's aiming for doesn't suit her voice. I can't pinpoint it, but when we had the auditions over half a year ago, Miho had easily impressed everybody - including myself (and I'm extremely picky whenever it comes to selecting new trainees). Her voice is strong. She reaches pitches that many vocalists could only dream of reaching. Considering she's quite young, she likes to show off her talent, but she's been lacking the emotion and depth behind her words. Perhaps it could be from the lack of experience - I mean, she _is_ sixteen. She has a whole life in front of her yet to explore. She's determined to debut. I've been prolonging her debut because I want to ensure that she is happy with the genre she decides on because once you make your name known out there, you're labelled and typecasted to that particular genre.

Rock isn't her. Pop isn't her. Acoustic...maybe. But I feel like there's something I'm missing here.

I tap my fingers against the desk. I demand, "Again."

She shakes her head.

"Come on, Miho," I say. "I only want the best for you."

"You're a darn perfectionist, that's what!" She snaps. However, she waves me off and starts to sing into the mic.

She sings it better this time. The words smoothly come out of her mouth, as she sings the lyrics I've composed. I had given her the choice to change the lyrics around, considering I had composed the music, but she said she liked my lyrics as much as she liked my complicated music compositions.

Her voice is dolce, and lilting at the right moments. And, perhaps because I catch pitch well, I notice the small stuff-ups and when the vibrato is over-expressed. She seems tired and, you know what? She is right. I _have_ been gruelling her. She needs a break, or another day to try singing this song again. I should grant it to her...maybe then I can figure out what to do with her.

I sigh.

I wish I could figure out what to do with Takashi. Glancing at my bag, I see the booklet sticking out of it. It's not like I haven't ignored Jun's proposition. Rehab sounds great for Takashi, but Takashi doesn't seem keen about it. How can you get a person to come clean, when they _don't_ want to be clean? In the end of the day, it's their decision. You can't force somebody without them _wanting_ to want themselves to be better.

Also, if the label was to find out about this...it wouldn't only be my ass on the line. The others would get told off too. I mean, it shouldn't matter for Akira and Yutaka because they have left the company, but they hold close ties to our president since we were the first band to get them famous and our president treats us like his own children. Seiji-san has always been like a second father to all of us, and as for Takashi...Takashi never had a father, so Seiji-san was like his real father.

You try to ignore favouritism as much as you can, but there had always been a closer bond between Seiji-san and Takashi. Seiji-san had scouted Takashi first, and always supported him as his own son because he never had children. His wife died before he had made us a band. Seiji-san invested his life to music, and rather than finding a new love he confessed (when KOD had debuted and were all shit faced) that he would never love somebody else as much as his late wife.

"How was that?"

I blink, coming back to reality after having been lost in my train wreck of thoughts. "Better?"

"You don't sound too impressed, senpai," Miho grumbled, pouting. "Then again, you're never impressed."

"Oh, Miho-chan," I groan. "I don't mean to be like that. You're talented. I just want you to do your best because you have great potential, and by far much more talent and skill than I had at your age."

"Did you know that positive feedback can cause miracles?"

I snort. "I'm not going to spoon feed you, kid."

She sticks her tongue out at me and I chuckle back at her.

Miho resorts to a different song next. This one has her own lyrics. When she had shown me them, I had told her that she needed to sing them. If she continues the path she is going, I'm more than certain that she'll become a fantastic lyricist too. Something about her words are fragile, and beautiful. Words that I could never think of expressing. It may be because she's a female artist; and I...well, I've been on a lyric drought for a while now.

When so many things happen around you, and you're thrown in the middle - let's just say it is the prime reason at stifling my creativity. But it's Takashi I'm the most worried about now. I've been attempting to push him out of my mind for a while now, pretending that his problem isn't my problem...yet it's been eating me away. Taichi often says I blame myself on things that I shouldn't blame myself for. I could use that excuse. I really can. However, Taichi doesn't know that it was I...yes, _me_ \- I'm the one who had screwed up Takashi's life.

I had exposed him to drugs.

Burying my hands into my hair, I sigh. _Christ…_

All the people I end up caring about; I really do manage to screw them up, don't I?

Sometimes I wish it was I who took Takashi's place, Takashi's addiction. It's my fault. And, after all, Takashi had more coming for him. He's the best guitarist I know. He composes better tunes than I could ever. And I, what am I doing? I've got a better support system. I have friend who will be there for me, and sometimes I think I'm spoiled for it. Do I deserve it? After all the shit I've done, am I worthy of everything around me?

I need to stop being philosophical and concentrate. Yes. Back to work. That's what you're good at, Ishida. You're so _fucking_ good at hiding.

Her singing stops.

I conclude her session. "We'll try recording it again tomorrow, Miho."

She's gone well over time, and she has school still to go back to. I could keep pestering Miho to continue singing, but it's time for us to retire today. The deal with our label is that we encourage high school kids and younger to continue their schooling because if they weren't to become successful, at least they had their education to fall back on.

Miho bows at me before she leaves the recording room.

I move back onto my chair, sighing again. I grab the sheet music and wonder if I should change some bars to improve the song, and make it suit Miho's voice. Or maybe - _SHIT!_

Almost jumping out of my seat, I turn around to see that it's the fur ball of idiocy who had been the one who had tapped me on the shoulder. I bite back a swear when I notice Sora standing cutely behind him. She's in a over-sized jersey, short shorts and black runners.

Not that I'm staring; _not really…_

I mean, if she wasn't here, I would have decked Taichi by now for intruding my workplace without my notice. Should I even be surprised by this? Taichi always likes to get under my skin. The asshole. Look at him, standing next to me, giving me that darn cheeky look of his. God. He's even raising his eyebrows up and down because he knows that he's caught me out.

I _had_ stupidly given him the idea to drop by the studio. I had _also_ hung the phone up on him when he mentioned Sora. It's like Taichi and my brother have come up with the same plan of conspiring to put Sora and I in the same room. Perhaps I had walked into this one. I'm _never_ hanging up on Taichi again.

I shouldn't even be surprised. This _is_ very Taichi-like. He's giving me cheeky look, raising his eyebrows up and down as if reading my mind to _why_ Sora is here. I choke out, "At least give me notice when you come."

 _And notice if you bring darn company, you shithead!_

Taichi ignores my irritation, rambling on about how I'm being cruel with Miho and how I'm being too hard on her. I mean, I would value Taichi's opinion if he _is_ a musician. The idiot can't even sing his ABCs without going off key. Yes. That's how _bad_ he is. The countless of times I've gone home after karaoke with him, I wanted to chop my ears off. In other words, I'll _never_ take advice from my best friend whenever it relates to music. No way in hell.

He likes to piss me off because he starts fidgeting with the music equipment. I kick him away, and I catch Sora giggling at our childishness.

Taichi cries out, "First Sora, and now you! Do you want to kill me?"

"Possibly." I smirk. "If it's your death wish, I'll happily comply."

"And I'll support his cause too," Sora adds in. Man, she's great.

Taichi has a sulk that we're ganging up on him, and then makes a big show to ignore us by placing an order for Chinese food under my name. Typical Taichi. Typical _cheap_ Taichi. The guy has enough money on him, but he likes to take advantage of me all the _fucking_ time.

Sora steps in, complimenting the studio. I would have never expected for her to make an appearance in my work environment. Only Taichi and Takeru's been here since it's opened. It's quite intimate and the public doesn't even know the location of this studio...so it's odd seeing Sora here. It's nice though. She's picking up on details about this studio that not many people have. She's got an eye for art, or design. I fill her in that I've spent most of my savings on the studio. She advises me I should spend my money on travelling as well.

I respond that I'm not as adventurous as her - but she doesn't know I get heavily nauseated from airplanes now. The thought of going on a flight makes me want to spew my stomach out. I used to be able to brave flights; but with each flight I take now, I feel even worse. It's become an acquired phobia.

Taichi's phone goes off and Sora sends me an irritated look. I don't get why she's irked but when the conversation ends, I realise that Taichi's stationed to go on another business trip...just when he's only come back to Tokyo.

My thoughts are confirmed when Sora shouts out, "TAICHI! Didn't you listen to what I said on the soccer field?"

Taichi makes an excuse that's not good enough for Sora. Apparently Mimi had arranged plans that they see her parents tomorrow night. I may not be the dating type, but even I know that it's a no go to ditch out of family dinners this often.

"I guess I'll have to skip on the Chinese because I've got some last minute packing to do." Taichi races out the door while Sora yells after him.

Fantastic Taichi. Some great friend you are. Thank you for making it awkward as fuck. Thank you for taking Sora here and abandoning her with me. Could you have been a bit considerate and at least dumped her with me when I'm _not_ working?

Not that I don't mind her being near me...but _argh._

"Perhaps I should go to," Sora says, noticing my discomfort.

She's perceptive like that. Then again, who wouldn't be in this type of situation. I can't be mean though. She's a friend now and I can't completely kick her out. Taichi promised her lunch, so she must be starving. And, come to think of it, I haven't even eaten anything since last night - unless you count coffee, that is.

"Stay. Taichi's already ordered lunch that's enough to feed a starving village. Anyway, I could do with a break. If you guys hadn't had marched in, I would have been helping myself to instant noodles."

Instant noodles are delicious, OK?

She disagrees with my food choice, so I give her the shittiest reasons why (because we all know instant noodles is bad, alright?).

"It's all about balance, Sora. That's what you've got to take into consideration. Too much of something is never good, which is why you need to even it out. One day you smoke, the next day you drink, and the day after that you get laid. Then you press repeat."

I'm being sarcastic as hell and am spouting out all these words to keep me sane right now. I don't function well with an empty stomach and when a pretty lady in the room. And did I just make a fool out of myself right now? Yes, I did. Shut up.

Sora doesn't let me get away with it. She laughs at me and comments, "That's the worst explanation ever."

Yes, it is. I don't tell her that. I'm already embarrassed enough as it is. It's not like me to get this flustered. I've sung and performed in front of thousands of people and somehow she's got me like _this._ Be careful, Yamato. You don't want to think too much of this...of her.

I realise I'm being an idiot for not letting her sit down, so I take out a chair for her. She sits on it, gazing around the room. Because I don't know what else to say, I pick up the acoustic guitar and begin fiddling with it.

She doesn't interrupt as we wait for the food. She's quiet, observing, listening - and I'm thankful that she's not making small talk.

The atmosphere doesn't feel awkward as it originally had. My fingers play with the strings, and I construct a melody. It's a nice one. I can see myself performing it - or even Miho. Yes, I can adjust and calibrate this to suit Miho's singing. I pencil the notes onto the blank sheet of music paper. I try another sequence of chords and become startled when she speaks up her thoughts, "The second one."

I've forgotten she's here. I feel guilty. I shouldn't be like this when I have company.

Anyway, I agree with Sora that the A minor chord sounds better. I'm curious, so I ask her if she's played any instruments before. She explains that she used to be in the school choir. I find it funny because, since she's dressed in sports gear, picturing her in a choir is amusing. She later reveals that she was actually tone deaf and she was talked into leaving the choir. I'm guffawing by then. Now I understand why Sora gets along with Taichi. As well for having the same mutual respect for soccer, they're both _horrible_ singers.

We dig into the Chinese food when it arrives. I'm hungry. We're not talking anymore. It's a good thing. She's not like Takeru, who constantly _has_ to talk to fill in the silence. Now that I think about it, Sora's awfully 'my paced'. She doesn't force things. She goes with the flow. I mean, she could have easily walked out on me when Taichi had left - but she hadn't.

Maybe she agrees to things so she doesn't have to deal with arguing. I can see Mimi taking advantage of her, even Miyako too. She's described as the mother hen; but she could also be depicted as the older sister who can't keep up with all the bullshit from the younger siblings.

I like the way she is. She's not overbearing or loud, nor as patient and kind as Hikari. She stands her own ground. Is strong in her own ways. She isn't too much drama, but she isn't plain either. Did I tell you how _hot_ she looks in the soccer gear? _Mind. Out. Of. The. Gutter. Yamato._ This is why I'm acting weird. I haven't had sex for God knows how long. And no. I _shouldn't_ be eyeing her right now. Not when she's friends with all my friends. No thank you.

But _thank you_ for ringing right now.

Sora motions that she's fine if I answer the call. I bite back a groan when I see it's Jun. I answer it anyway. "Jun?"

"YAMATO! Why do you keep ignoring my calls? Didn't I tell you we need to discuss about this. Akira will be there. I'm dragging all your asses to mine and we can have a group meeting because this is absolutely pathetic that all of you are avoiding-"

"I get it, I get it." I'm about to go deaf. "It'll happen tonight."

Jun murmurs on the other line, "Tonight at mine then?"

"Tonight," I repeat, confirming her words. "Yes."

"You'd better not bail. I'll have your ass, Ishida."

"Bye." I hang up.

I would have responded with a flirting remark, but I know it's kind of inappropriate when Jun's no longer _that t_ ype of friend, and when there's another person is in the room who is obviously listening to your conversation. Sora might be focusing on the noodles on her plate, but it's evident she's heard my exchange with Jun.

What I _don't_ expect from Sora is to let a low whistle out between her lips and say, "Booty call?"

She catches me off guard, that I find myself chuckling. I play along, "Maybe."

"At least you can get laid with someone."

Sora winks at me, and I almost spit out my grin tea as I gaze at her in absolute awe. "Did you _actually_ just say that?"

"No."

 _Right_. If she thinks she can get off the hook that easily…but what did she mean by that? Why is she bringing this up. Does she…are we flirting?

I tease, "You almost sound jealous."

What I'm surprised by is her answer. She mutters that she's envious that I get booty calls and that having 'what i have' is better than being in relationship. Sora's even going to extremes about explaining how it's complicated to commit. And, I get her. We're on the same page when it comes to commitment and relationships. Though, I still can't get my head around that somebody like her understands me, and that she has no shame expressing it to me that there's nothing wrong with sleeping with people if you aren't in a relationship. That, or we're both bat-shit crazy. I guess there's more to meet the eye when it comes to the ever-so-mysterious Miss Takenouchi.

She cracks a pleasing smile. "Thanks for the meal."

I walk her out. Although she's said what she's had in her mind, there's something else I sense coming from her. She's confused. I might be reading way into it, but it's like she's talking to me to make sense of what's occurring around her. I mean, why is she confessing all these private thoughts to me? It's not common for a woman to go up to you and express her desires of being jealous that, somebody like me, is 'supposedly' sleeping with people.

I hadn't confirmed that Sora was wrong when she had assumed that I had been sleeping with Jun. I wasn't that close to her to admit that I, too, have been also experiencing a dry spell. She could admit it to me, but I'm a bit more private than she is. That, or she's really confused. Could she _really_ be jealous about my fucked up lifestyle? Really? And, you know what? Somehow I can't leave her on that note. If Sora thinks my lifestyle is great; I think her's is even better than mine.

I call out to her as she leaves, "I'm jealous of your lifestyle too!"

"What?" She pivots back on her heels. Now that we're in the sunlight, I catch specks of honey gold in her eyes.

"You're independent." And not many women are like that, I want to to tell her. But I don't. Instead, I speak on, "You're not afraid of being you and you do whatever you please."

"Doesn't mean I'm getting laid though."

Her cheeks are blush pink, as if regretting what she had just said. Not that I mind it. God, this woman is hilarious.

"But you're doing everything else right, Sora."

Sora surveys me. Her gaze is piercing, strong, beautiful. She takes in my words, but I feel like it doesn't touch her. It's true what I've said though. I reckon she is true to herself. That she is strong. She's pretty enough to settle down with anyone. I know she could get a date without even trying, but she hasn't. She's her. When people tell her what to do, she finds her own approach.

Taichi had told me that he had once suggested that she go get a boyfriend, but Sora had ignored him and booked herself a cruise around Asia. She's her own person. I may not have known her as long as the others, but I can definitely say she's admirable.

"Thanks," she beams.

As she struts off, I catch her behind. I shake my head at myself, smirking. Sora definitely is one of a kind. Like I said earlier, she's pretty enough to do whatever the hell she wants, and if any guy was to ever hold her back...he was not worth her time.

She might be concerned of her current state and her role of what place she holds in the world, but I think she's doing a good job. I wish I could be like her too.

* * *

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 **(a/n)** This is kinda like Bittersweet Catastrophe's Chapter Seven..but it's still very different. Yamato is much more interested in Sora than he makes it out to be in Bittersweet xD Haha. And there's also more angst to his character, if you haven't gathered that by now. (I'll edit this later. It's 4am and I'm trying to get out of night shift mode)

Thanks for reading :)


	10. chapter nine: i kissed a drunk girl

_i know you don't care about me._

 _i'm sure when all is said and done_

 _and i go home, feeling lonely,_

 _you will have had your fun._

 _do you even remember?_

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(drunk girl - something corporate)

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* * *

 _ **.**_

 **.**

 **.**

 **[LIFELINES]**

chapter nine: i kissed a drunk girl

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* * *

Finding the door unlocked, I walk in.

It doesn't take me all that long to locate him. He's laying on the dirty sofa, shirt half off as he watches a documentary about Jupiter's satellites while smoking a cigarette. My mood dwindles the longer I absorb my surroundings. The sofa has an abundant amount of cigarette burns, that it may as well look like the pattern of the cotton, soft-furnished design. Stale smoke swarms the dry air, mixed with sweat, body odour, and a pungent scent of marijuana.

He's either mixing his drugs up, his 'other' friends are using his place to get high or perhaps the combination of both. Who knows?

He looks slightly lucid in contrast to the last time I'd laid eyes on him. I mean, if he's watching a documentary, this _does_ resemble a bit of his old self. He had always been a closet nerd. If he hadn't been a guitarist, my bet would have been he would have become some type of scientist. Regardless of it all, Takashi may not be as focused, but he's there. _Somewhere_.

"Hey Takashi."

I sit next to him. He stinks. I can only imagine the last time he's showered. He eyes me, distracted from the television for a second. "Yamato-kun?"

Yes, it's one of his better days.

Abruptly, I reach for the remote control and I turn off the monitor. Takashi frowns but doesn't fight me for the remote to turn the television back on. His bottom lip is protruding out in protest, facial expression flickering in anger at my intrusion, but he doesn't yet ask me why I'm here.

My voice is dry, but I speak anyway, "You didn't make it to the guitar session today."

Disgruntledly, he replies to me, "I was tired. I went to last week's one."

"No," I deny. I fold my arms. "You went to it three weeks ago."

" _Oh_."

No apology. My manager would be upset, but I can't bring myself to yell or scold Takashi. I've already tried that before, and it had made things worse. He'd either retaliate, or flee. And, nothing's worse than throwing a search party for him because Takashi _knows_ how to disappear when he does not want to be found.

What's ironic is that despite the shit he's been getting himself into, he still can produce a good, decent tune. High or sober - Takashi is a guitar legend. He always will be. I owe him because it is who had made me realise my love for music.

If you see Takashi play live, you'd understand. His fingers are quick, gliding through the strings in a an effortless manner. He can change the atmosphere in the room from producing a few chords, or even improvising a song to form a perfect melody. One afternoon, I had lingered back in school for detention that I had earned from fighting with Taichi (which was a frequent happening that the teachers loathed us for). I had to sit out the detention alone because Taichi's detention was scheduled for following day because he had soccer practice that evening. Considering I was alone, I had strolled down the empty corridors, and it was when I heard Takashi's distinct guitar playing, I found my feet entering the music room, gawking at my senpai's talented low-key performance. The rest is history from there.

And now, to think that my role model would turn out like this...Takashi really is the shadow of who he used to be. He's almost skeletal. Eyes drained, cheeks sunken. If he isn't addict, his skin would be more brighter, laughter more contagious and smile more vivid. I still hope; I still wish that he can change back into the person he was. It's disturbing seeing him like this.

I may appear irritable and moody to some people, but Takeru tells me that it's my front. Takeru says I tend to always look for the good in everybody; even when I know what they are doing is wrong. I don't know if he likes to say shit like this because it's in character to piss people off, or because I'm - unfortunately - his brother, though in some sense I'd have to agree with him. Perhaps it is really my flaw that I care, that I want to see my close friends through rose-coloured glasses. What I really want is the positive outcome, the chance to hope, to believe that people can improve, make up for their mistakes and get better.

"Would you think about it, Taka senpai?" I ask him.

"About what, Yamato-kun?" His voice is lilty, like he is unsure whether we're in reality or in a dream.

 _Great_. I'm losing him again. I wonder that if we had stepped in earlier, would he have been better? Why had we all been too focused in ourselves, to not notice how badly our guitarist was slipping? We would have never guessed how bad Takashi was addicted due to his fool-proof acting skills. It's only in the recent years and right before the band separated, that we noted how bad Takashi's addiction truly was. If Takeru thought I had good front, Takashi had a damn fort.

I clear my throat, attempting to keep the conversation going. "Rehab."

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine," I persist. I take steady breaths, trying my hardest to keep my cool and _not_ snap at him.

Takashi replies, "I don't need rehab."

"Could you at least try it?" I murmur. "You know you're not well."

He snorts at me. "And how about you?"

"What?" I'm taken aback by his words.

Takashi prods, "When's the last time you spoke to Makoto sensei?"

I hadn't planned to be confronted instead. By putting the attention on somebody else, he can take talking about himself out of the equation. It's just like Takashi to turn the situation back on me because it's one of the things he likes to do. Although Takashi is in a worse situation that I am, he knows how to put the focus back on me.

"I don't need to speak to him. If anything, it's you who needs him more than I do." I reply, pinching the bridge between my nose. "Come on, Takashi. You know I'm not here to talk about myself."

"Why? You know that you're not well either, Yamato-kun."

Yes, he _really_ knows how to press my buttons. He sees through my lies. He sees that I'm a hypocrite too, that I am putting up an act - an act from myself. I plough on, "You need help."

He glares. "I don't need it."

I sigh; I can't stand this. How much longer are we going to keep arguing? How much longer can I keep covering for Takashi?

Takashi spits out, "I didn't ask you to help me. I don't need to be saved by you. I don't want anything-"

I fume, "Then _what_ do you want? Do you want to waste away? Is that what you want? _Huh_?"

He takes a low stab to spite me. "Would you have preferred if Kaori was alive instead of me?"

A sting of coldness saturates me. We don't talk about this - I don't talk about this. And whenever somebody tries to get me bring her up, my temper flares or I close up. I'm unimpressed that he's stooped this low by bringing her up to prove a point.

"You're being stupid," I mumble.

He presses on, "Kaori right? You'd pick her."

"You're both important to me," I scowl. I get up and I pull out the crumbled rehab pamphlets, dropping it onto the sofa besides him. "Read it."

I leave, not knowing what else to say.

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* * *

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"Alright, baby boy, what the _fuck_ is wrong with you?" Akira's demands.

I sit up straight, taking my hands away from supporting my head on the table. We're at Jun's place, all sitting around the dining table like we've all presented ourselves to a business meeting. Jun's girlfriend and all the members, including our manager, has made an effort to attend this meeting and enduring this whole ordeal is a painful situation. I feel like I'm being restrained against my own will. I don't want to be here.

"Yamat, you've been tense ever since you walked in." Satou has noticed. I'm not surprised he has.

My whole body feels rigid and tight. I feel like screaming, like hitting something. My old therapist had once mentioned that I take boxing classes to manage my anger because I seemingly bottle a lot of my feelings (yes, like I need to be told this when I already know it), and right now I regret not buying myself a boxing bag. Therapist, huh? I snort to myself when I remember Takashi's words, ' _When's the last time you spoke to Makoto sensei?'_

Damn this.

I swig some beer down. "I'm good."

"Right," Jun rolls her eyes.

It's her fault that we're all here. She's made us attend this pointless meeting about Takashi. She's told Satou regardless of how I was against it. And now Satou is stressed out as he hadn't been aware how bad Takashi's addiction was. He had begun rambling about taking Takashi out of the Wired Tours and wanting to stop his activities with the rookie in-training bands. Hearing this had irritated me more because I know that music is probably the only sane thing in Takashi's life right now. If we were to take music away from him, what will Takashi have left? How will he function? I'm just thankful Jun hasn't spilled the beans to Seiji-san. If Seiji-san were to find out, we'd all be punished for hiding it from him. The president had learnt how to discipline his employees after getting first-hand experience from raising KOD.

"It would help if you provided some input, Yamato-san." It's Jun's girlfriend - Rose - who speaks up. She's spoken because despite me being irrirated, she knows that I won't yell at her compared to the rest of the people in the room, whom I am closer to. "You don't seem convinced about Takashi-san going to rehab."

 _Ah_ , Jun's wise bringing her girlfriend. All of us would have denied Rose permission to be here, but considering Rose works as a receptionist at the local rehab centre and because we trust Jun, Yutaka mentioned that she was a valuable source. However, right now all I want for her is to leave.

"I think this is a waste of time," I voice out. "How can we help Takashi when he does not want to change?"

"There are other options. We could call in services."

"For them to give him a few counselling sessions and throw him out onto the street again?" I hiss. I can't calm down anymore. Even if she's Jun's partner, I'm angry and frustrated. What right does she have to say this? She doesn't even know Takashi!

Rose frowns. "I never said that."

"What are we meant to do? Drag him into a clinic unwillingly-"

Jun cuts in, "Stop being an asshole, Yamato."

"That's right. Don't speak to her that way." Ah, _fucking_ Saint Satou to the rescue. My manager for you, people.

Akira sniggers. "For once I'm not getting scolded."

"Shut up." Yutaka doesn't let the drummer get away with it.

 _Wow._ This meeting really is turning into such a success.

"If we're done here, we should go." I want to get out of here as soon as possible. What's the point of being here if nothing good will come out of it? What other options do we have when it's Takashi who doesn't want to fix himself? Just _how_ are we meant to help?

"You seemed keen about this plan of attack before," Yutaka says, thoughtfully. "What makes you want to abandon ship all of a sudden?"

Bloody Yutaka. He can always read between the lines. It's his natural talent. Perhaps it's because he's a pianist, a perfectionist who doesn't miss a single beat - or in his case, a single note.

"I spoke to him before I got here, guys," I reveal. "That's why I was late. I was hoping I could bring him here so we could all talk to him. My words obviously didn't convince him. Takashi has made it clear to me that he doesn't want to change. And when he brought up Kaori, I lost it. He was being infuriating, comparing himself to her. It's almost like he _wants_ to die. I just want him back, you know? _Fucking hell..._ "

I close my eyes. Even beer won't soothe me now. I can feel all their eyes resting on me. Akira places a hand on my shoulder and I shrug him off. Dickhead. I know he's just doing it to piss me off by angering me out of my shit enough mood.

I glare at him and he smirks. "At least you tried, baby boy."

"Fuck off," I snarl.

Yutaka pounds Akira on the head for me.

"It's not only on your shoulders, Yamato. We'll all work together to get him back on the right tracks," Jun says.

"Will us trying even help?" I grumble.

Nobody replies. Like I said, we've left this simmering way too long. If only we had offered a helping hand to Takashi earlier, it would have been much easier. Instead, we had ignored him and pretended he was fine. We have ourselves to blame. We were the people who he had counted on, and we had let him down.

"Then we'll keep trying again," Rose says.

Of course, it's the over-enthusiast who disagrees against my thoughts. Then again, sometimes it's a good thing to have someone who is hopeful when everybody else is shrouded in doubt.

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* * *

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Our attempts are fruitless. Takashi can't be found. It's been a week since I've last seen him. We would have filed a missing person's report to the police, but we've messaged him on Facebook messenger numerous time all the messages we've been sent have been 'read' by him. In other words, Takashi is _choosing_ to ignore us.

It makes things harder for me. Because he's not going to work, I've been impacted. I've had to work overtime to help with Wired's guitar work and considering I'm helping my manager out in this aspect, all my solo sessions with the individual artists have been strained too. This stressful week has got my body aching. I almost wish I was back in Shimane, soaking it up in my grandparents' ryokan. The thought of being submerged in hot water is appealing. It would release all the tension I've accumulated. Maybe I'll hit one of the bath houses after Koushiro's launch. I don't even want to go. Maybe I'll go to the onsen instead-

 _Don't be a prick, Yamato._ I repeatedly think this to myself as I force myself to get ready. I slip on a pair of polished black shoes, jeans and my favourite leather jacket over a white dress shirt. Simple, but comfortable. I'm sure Koushiro won't mind since I'll only be their momentarily. I don't plan to stay long because I have nobody else to keep me company at the launch. Miyako would have been my date, but she already agreed to taking her new boyfriend as a plus one. And now that Jun's never available, I had no choice but to go to the event on my own.

Everybody else had valid excuses not to attend. Takeru and Hikari are sick. The boys have something on, and Taichi is on yet _another_ work trip. I'm glad his work trip is still within Japan because (surprisingly) even I worry that Taichi working himself to the grave. If people comment on me being a workaholic, I point out Taichi's worse because - well, he _truly_ is.

It doesn't cease me from thinking that Taichi's ditched me yet again. Taichi knew that it would be Koushiro's big night tonight, yet he decided to stay in Nagasaki for another work conference. Koushiro's been chattering about this launch for the past year. He's quite the intellectual, creating a fingerprint computer system for the hospitals in Tokyo, available at each patient's bedside - giving doctors and medical staff immediate access to medical records, pathology and imaging results. Koushiro deserves all the credit because he's worked his ass off for this - which makes it quite disappointing that most of us aren't able to be here on his special night. Isn't it sad that the older we get, the more responsibilities we get. Adulting at its finest, I guess.

When I get to the function, I find Kou. He's sipping on some red wine, face slightly flushed as he speaks to a group of serious-looking individuals. The medical and business folk are completely different to me; it's like they're a species on its own. They converse in a geeky language which sounds like alien speak to me. During times like this, I realise how different Kou is to the rest of the group. He's a whole new level of brilliance, and it's a brilliance that people envy. I am envious, but because Koushiro is my friend, I worry more about people taking advantage of his crazy genius.

"Thanks for coming," Koushiro grins. His smile is weary and jittery, but I observe that he's pleased I'm here and was able to save him out of the flock of people - even if it's just for a moment. He finishes his wine, passing the glass to one of the waiting staff, then wipes his sweaty palms onto his pants. "I didn't think you'd come, Yamato."

"It's not my crowd, but I didn't want to miss your launch. Congrats!" I admit. I hand him a good luck charm for ' _prosperous business_ ' that I had bought yesterday from a temple I had visited. "I'm proud of you, Kou."

"You think this will help make a change? I'm nervous that the system might fail. What if the hospitals choose not to use my creation? Do you reckon it'll work?"

 _Ah, Kou's a bundle of anxiety._

"It will. You created it," I say, firmly.

Koushiro hardly makes a mistake because he goes through every problem in detail a trillion times. Whenever I have tech difficulties in the studio, he's the first person I go to. As well as being intelligent, my friend is reliable. He's the type of person who will do an all-nighter to make a solution to a problem. It's how is brain is wired up. My friend is soon, unwillingly dragged away by some cardiologist. I wave him off, telling him I'll see him next time and that I won't stick around any longer. After this shit week, all I desire is to crash at home and get some decent sleep.

I make my way to the exit, and it's then that I see her...in _lace._

She's dressed up for tonight. Then again, it's the most dressed up I've ever seen her. Even for her thirtieth birthday, she had been attired in a casual outfit. Tonight, well - unlike me - she has truly dressed up for the occasion and had taken more care of what to wear.

Her dress is composed of black silk. Lace decors the dress and because there isn't any lining under the sleeves, her skin contrasts against the lace, showing off thin arms. The dress isn't completely form-fitting, but it's not disguising her figure. The length of her dress stops just above her knees, exposing her long, toned legs. She's taller, feet propped up by a pair of navy, suede heels. And there's a faint touch of make-up layered over her face. It's natural. Then again, Sora doesn't need to go overboard with the cosmetics because she already looks hot without it.

 _Christ_ , she looks hot.

Apparently, I'm not the only person who realises this.

There's this guy standing besides her, chatting her up. His smile is predatory. He's tall, a few inches shorter than me though. His suit is pressed, the fabric appears expensive. Obviously he's rich. I know this because his cufflinks are designed in kanji, the characters most likely spelling out his name. Yes, this man is definitely full of himself if we went that far to customise his own cufflinks. He's wealthy, so that doesn't give him an excuse for his poor fashion sense.

Sora laughs at something he says. I find myself snorting. I want to intervene, but should I leave? Do I want to depart from the launch now that I've seen her? I mean, it's been a big week. I should go home and pretend not to see her.. _.or_ should I continue to watch the man flirt with her? Wait. Does she like him? No. Her smile looks forced.

It's not my business though. If I interrupt, it will look like I'm jealous. Am I jealous? Sora's an adult. She can handle the guy herself. I'm sure she's been hit on by countless of men before. She can leave him if she feels uncomfortable, which means that I should make my way and go home now too…but why am I eavesdropping on them?

"Down the hallway, there's an empty room we can check out," The asshole suggests to her.

I can see Sora getting irritated by the second. He's pathetic. This man _really_ doesn't even know the definition of smooth. He's lost his chance now. Then again, I'm sure Sora's standards are high. She is a beautiful girl, after all. The exchange a few more words, and it's then that I notice the conversation take a turn. Sora's jawline is tight. She's frowning at the man, and it's then that I see the man stroke her thigh. I want to jump in now, but Sora's already in action as she shoves his hand away from her.

"I'm going to the toilet."

Asshole gives a disgusting smile, hand lowering to Sora's lower back. He ays to her, "We can go there together?"

And it's then that things get lively. Sora swats him away. Ensuring he does not make advances towards her anymore, Sora twists the heel of her shoe into his foot before making a run for it.

" _You bitch_!" He growls after her.

She glides past me, but she freezes for a second when she witnesses me standing there.

I smirk. "Takenouchi, you sure handled that well. He looks pleasant. Why didn't you give him a chance?"

Sora narrows her eyes, glaring at me. It's the same glare she used on the asshole, however it's not as piercing. It's kinda hot. Or maybe I just like getting under her skin because it's quite amusing watching her lose her get pissed off. I mean, isn't it that whenever we bump into each other, it's under extreme situations? Our first encounter _does_ involve me almost running over her with my motorbike.

She grumbles that the man is a sleaze, then goes on to attack me, "Are you a sadist? Yamato, you could have been a good friend and pulled me out of that one."

"I've always had the impression that you did't need a knight in shining armour to rescue you." I shrug at her. I don't even know why I stuck around to witness the whole spectacle to be honest.

Well, she _is_ my friend. Kinda.

Snatching two glasses of bubbling champagne by a server, I offer one to her. She accepts it without a question, gazing into her glass. "True. Though, I could have used with extra help."

I make fun of the asshole's customised cufflinks, saying that he was quite the catch to consider. She scowls at me and comments that I've been stalking her. I don't deny it. Chuckling, I ask her more about the asshole and why she had declined him. She amuses me, muttering how the asshole made a lame joke about HTML coding to get her to sleep with him.

God, it's been a while since I've laughed this hard. It's a good thing. I find that Sora isn't somebody to mess with, nor is the type of woman who likes to be lectured about how she is to live her life. It's refreshing. After such a terrible week, this is exactly what I needed. And, having Sora around for brief company is quite effective to easing my lethargy away.

"I must have committed adultery in my past life or done something evil to endure that. I was thinking, _God, what did I do to deserve this?_ "

I remark, "Now don't get all biblical on me."

She retorts that if she aimed a bible at me, it would burn into ashes because I'm drenched in sin. Sora's funny. I have to give her that.

I change the topic back to the asshole, how he would have been a great candidate to bed. Ever since Sora and my last encounter, I can't get her words out of my mind. She had wanted to get laid. Not every woman would disclose this type of information with the opposite sex. Then again, Sora is really one of a kind.

"-the best opportunity comes up, with him basically _pleading_ you for sex, yet you reject him. From how I see it, you could have given him a chance, Sora." I mock.

"Even I have standards," she replies.

Ouch. Fair enough.

I speak back, "I may not be gay, but he was not bad looking."

"No, really," Sora laughs. "I think I wasn't attracted to him because, asides from the seediness, I finally realised that he kinda reminded me of a guy I used to go out with."

Oh, so we're talking about exes now? I bite onto the bait, and progress along with the conversation. Call me curious. I question if she has many exes. Sora gets defensive, projecting the topic back onto me, obviously addressing Jun.

I explain to her, "I wouldn't really call it a thing. We're not really anything. The only real relationship I had was when I was in high school, before the band fame. It's hard to juggle a relationship when you're touring."

She munches on a piece of bruschetta that I had earlier swiped off a server passing by for her. "You seem like you've been juggling Jun for some time."

I want to correct her. Jun's probably been juggling me more. I don't get why we have to talk about each other's relationships. Why can't we talk about something else? But if I back out, this fiery game of power will be diminished and I like this game that we're playing. This verbal combat is enticing and not the slightest bit boring. When I joke about her having two relationships per year, she gets grumpy at me. Sora's nose crinkles, irritated my by comment and murmuring something amongst the lines that she isn't that easy. I know she isn't, but it doesn't prevent me from ridiculing her.

We eventually change topics and ask each other how we know Koushiro. It should have been something that had been discussed earlier since we _were_ here for Koushiro's launch, and not meant to be conversing about our futile, non-existent love lives. I say to her that I had met Kou through Taichi, and that Kou's the good boy in our group that keeps us glued together. Sora's not surprised by this statement. We both laugh when we see Koushiro with a pretty blond woman at the bar and I say that he's potentially got a higher of getting lucky than we are.

We keep talking. We keep eating. We keep drinking.

The caterers are getting annoyed by us, but it doesn't stop us from taking off finger food from their platters. Sora and I are no longer thinking straight. Our thoughts are slurred, but we keep ranting to each other over trivial things. It's great - especially when your head is cloudy. I talk about how she's the mother hen out of the girls, how my brother is a brat, how our best friends are idiots (yet they're perfect for each other, and we wouldn't have it any other way), and how Sora's cheeks are becoming redder after each glass of champagne…

"Didn't expect you to go all hardcore, Takenouchi," I comment when she tells me that she's had over eight drinks.

She rolls her eyes at me. "I blame you. Before you arrived I had nobody else but the champagne to keep me company. Anyway, how can you say 'no' to free booze?"

"When you've clearly had enough," I respond. I grab the glass from her hands before she spills the drink. To prevent her from drinking it and getting more drunk, I down the glass myself. I catch her trying to get another champagne, but I lightly draw her hand back away from the tray.

Yes, she's drunk. Perhaps I should get her some food to sober her up…

As I reach to take another piece of bruschetta, the caterer sniffs at us and removes the tray from our reach. I gape, "Isn't that rude?"

"I think they found our master plan out," Sora giggles. "They know we're only here for the goods."

Scratching my head, I say, "So now that the goods are gone, how about we retreat? I'm sure Koushiro won't mind. We've made an appearance and have been here long enough. He's preoccupied anyway."

Her eyes light up, liking the idea of escaping the function. Seems like she's as eager as me to leave this place.

Instead of dawdling, why hadn't I thought about bringing up that we leave earlier? That would have saved us less time feeling out of place here amongst all the boring medical and business people.

Holding her by the arm, I help her down the flight of stairs. I'm tipsy, but she's worse than me. She's really wobbly. I'm afraid that if I let go, she'll fall down the steps. I try not to stare at her legs, though it's hard _not_ to. "Please don't tell me you're thinking of taking the train home."

"No, I'm not stupid." She replies, "The taxi."

"You probably should sober up first. I'm certain the taxi driver wouldn't appreciate it if you vomited inside the car."

"I should be fine." She simpers at me. It's strained as she tries to hold herself up by leaning onto the wall.

I snigger at her sorry state. " _Right.._."

It's probably not the best option, but I don't want her going home in a taxi by herself. I can't completely label her as my friend yet, but she is important to my close-knit circle of friends. If something were to happen to her, they'd have my head. I hail a taxi, and I give the driver my address. She can stay at mine until she sobers up, I decide. At least then I know she'll be safe and that she won't speak to strangers. Even on my days off from babysitting my nephews and niece, now I'm assigned to babysit a woman? What has my world come to?

Sora only realises that we're heading to mine when we're a few streets away. She queries my intentions. I can see it in her eyes, almost distrusting my actions. We get out of the taxi and I lead her to my apartment complex. "Don't worry, Takenouchi. I'm not going to murder you."

And even if she wants to get laid, there's no way I'll let that happen. She's part of my friendship group. Things will get messy if we do. Besides, I hate doing it with a drunk woman. I voice these thoughts out loud, and she begins to drunkenly deny that she's ' _not_ ' drunk, like any other drunk person would.

The elevator opens and a couple walks past us. Sora scares me by her sudden movement as she swings around, screaming at them, "YOU! I'M GOING TO REPORT YOU TO THE AUTHORITIES!"

I groan, eyes widening as I realise that couple consists of an older man and an underage girl. The man looks embarrassed, which he should be, but the underage girl doesn't look like she's in a bind. In actuality, she's in a lolita costume and she's clinging onto the older man's arm, almost tenderly. There are no signs of struggle at all. Cosplaying isn't my thing, but it seems that the couple are both happy being together with their _odd_ fetish...even if it's wrong, oh so _wrong._

Sora's about to yell again, so I clamp a hand over her mouth. I'm startled when I feel that the palm of my hand get poked by something wet. Did she just _lick_ my hand? I throw Sora a disgusted look, taking my hand back from her. It doesn't stop me from being quite amused by it all.

"Get away from him, you little girl!" Sora takes this to her advantage to shriek back at the couple.

"Mind your own business, old lady!" The girl in the lolita costume shrieks back.

I'm guffawing now, but I multi-task and yank Sora away before she starts a fight with the younger girl. Once inside the elevator I hold onto Sora's waist before she almost loses her balance and drops onto the ground. Our bodies are touching, as I support her with an arm as the elevator goes up. It's a shame that she's too drunk for her to realise our close proximity. Wait. Do I _want_ to be this close to her when we're both sober? Why am I thinking this way?

I smirk at the predicament we're in. I talk to fill the silence, "And you're _not_ drunk."

"I'm not. You're being unjust."

She's so close that I can smell the alcohol fumes in her breath. "You stink, Takenouchi."

"And you smell good, Ishida." She gives an adorable smile.

Oh hell. I chuckle.

When we get to mine, she takes off her shoes and starts running throughout the apartment, providing herself with her own personal tour of my place. I thought she was being silly, wanting to intentionally explore my rooms, but it's when she croaks out the single word ' _toilet_ ', I know all hell is going to let loose.

She barely makes it to the toilet. I can hear her vomiting from behind the bathroom doors. I cringe at the sound. She doesn't sound good. Not at all. She's there for a quarter of hour, trying to gain her senses back, as well as to steady her stomach. Over the period I let out a sigh of relief when the retching no longer can be heard. Sora finally re-emerges, eyes tired, face pale. She accepts a glass of water from me and thanks me for it.

Sora frowns. "Why didn't you stop me?"

From drinking, I gather. Then again, I was pretty bad too. I had my fair share of drinks too, picking up two glasses whenever the wait staff would materliase in our presence. I didn't know she had previous drinks beforehand, thinking that she could handle her drinks. She kept drinking though and I hadn't caught onto it earlier because I had been preoccupied on getting drunk too.

I smirk at her. "You were _unstoppable_."

She doesn't answer, collapsing onto my couch. As well as vomiting her guts out, she seems to have a headache or migraine now. Her hands are massaging her temples. If she's having a bad headache now, imagine what tomorrow will be like? Sora's going to have one hell of a hangover.

After microwaving some popcorn, I turn the television on. I can't leave Sora. I sit onto the remainder space of the couch that Sora hasn't occupied. If I go into my bedroom and sleep, that would be mean too. Nor can I find it in myself to carry her and tuck her into the bed in the guest room. I've already held onto her waist. I'm not that close to her to lift her up and carry her. Besides, I don't want to do anything else that will tempt me - not when she's like this.

"You have an unhealthy obsession with popcorn." Her eyes aren't even open, but she can guess what I'm eating by the smell of the melted butter.

"At least it's not bears," I retort, remembering the woman's frightful bear obsession. I can't get over it. Why would somebody want to collect bears? It's wrong. Plain wrong. If you were a child, sure. But Sora...Sora's a _woman._

She opens one eye, and soon I feel my head being hit by the cushion she had been laying on. The impact makes me groan. "Why'd you do that for? If you had knocked the bowl of popcorn, I wouldn't have forgiven you. Popcorn is always good for witnessing chaos."

"The movie's boring," Sora sniffs. I didn't even realise that it's a movie that's on TV.

I shake my head, chuckling at her. "You're the chaos."

She laughs with me.

It's a wonderful laugh. Full of colours, pastels. Her eyes are warm, brown and tantalising. Although she's piss drunk, she still is captivating. At that moment I want to kiss her, but my eyes slip away from her lips. _Stop thinking like this, Yamato._ I kind of wish she's just fall asleep because the more time I spend with her, the more I get attracted to her.

Then she _has_ to say, "So what are we doing? Are we _Netflixing and Chilling_?"

"Wow, I feel honoured." I say, sarcastically, "To think that somebody, like you, would consider me to be a worthy candidate. I meet your standards, huh?"

"Tall, blond and blue eyes?" She drawls. "I'd say that ticks all the boxes. You'll do."

She's dangerous. Our constant flirting with back and forth comments keep rising, and it makes something inside me flicker. I shuffle closer towards her, leaning over her body. I'm not touching her, but my arms are spread out on over both sides of her body, as she leans back, staring up at me with questioning, lustful eyes. I'm sure she sees the same look radiating from me.

"Now you're just wanting me for my looks. Isn't that insulting?" I say, quietly.

"A compliment on the looks is a good thing." She whispers, "Especially if it's just for a one night thing."

Shit. Is she implying what I think she is? Does she really wants to go ahead with this? Who would have thought the mother hen, was... _damn_. I can feel her breath against my throat. I swallow. "I'm single, and you're single…"

Sora catches me off guard, when she says, "What's stopping us then?"

Her rhetorical question becomes a permit. My mouth find her neck, sucking, planting a trail of kisses all over her. Her skin is smooth against my lips. She scents of delicious vanilla and when she gasps, my pulse quickens and I'm encouraged to keep going. Sora pushes be back onto the couch, and we're soon craving for dominance. We swap positions. I groan as she begins to unbutton my shirt, savouring the soft touch of her fingers against my chest.

A cough interrupts our movements.

Over the couch I spot familiar spiky copper hair and that darn goading grin of hers. _Damn it Jun…_

 _._

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 **(a/n)** A long chapter to make up for my long absence. The first part of the chp is new material, the second half you would have read in Sora's POV in the Bittersweet Catastrophe fanfic. Probably will update Bittersweet Catastrophe next, but it won't be immediate. Thank you for reading :) I'll edit this at some point...

 _Yamora -_ them flirting is amusing to write. it's difficult flipping perspectives at times, but yeah...you can definitely see that yamato is quite attracted to sora in this POV. haha. you're right about yamato being hard on himself. i think this is what makes writing in his perspective challenging. thanks for reviewing!

 _Dikus_ \- this is subtle right now (ok, maybe not after the last scene), but you're correct that Bittersweet Catastrophe is going to go off soon xD both perspectives are entertaining to write. thank you for reading :)

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As for the logged in reviews, I'll reply later. It's already 4AM. xD


	11. chapter ten: unnecessary ironies

_black dust in orbit_

 _cascades down like a parachute_

 _bricks on my shoulders_

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(weight in gold - gallant ).

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 **[LIFELINES]**

chapter ten: **u** nnecessary **i** ronies

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How _fucking_ ironic.

Just as I'm finally about to get some action (do you know how _long_ it's been?), Jun _has_ to come over. Uninvited. Alright, I shouldn't be complaining. Jun always does this. The same goes for my brother and Taichi. But I'm bitter that it's _now_ that she decides to turn up.

My body is still flaming in a heated frenzy as I stare at Sora who is laying under me, face questioning and cheeks pink. Her fevered breathing steadies. I groan, rolling off from her, leering at the source who has interrupted us. "Hey babe."

It's a nickname that's stuck. Jun hates being called it, so I use it as frequently as I can whenever I address her - especially when I want to irritate her. Right now I want to do more than irritate her; I want to kick her out of my apartment. She sees the exasperated look and face, well aware of what she's walked into. The bitch smirks.

"You guys can keep going if you want." Jun tilts her head, pretending to ponder. She suggests, "Perhaps I should join in?"

I snort, trying to control my laughter as I catch the repulsed expression that flickers onto Sora's face. Jun's joking, of course. Her humour is lewd, which is partly because she's been hanging out with the band too long. She really is one of the boys, never afraid to back down from dirty jokes.

Regardless, I can see that it doesn't sit well with Sora. She's sitting up now, retracting her purse.

"She's only joking, Sora. You don't have to go."

I want her to stay. I definitely don't want her to leave, not when we hadn't gotten to finish what we had started. I watch as she uses her hands to smoothen her hair down. Just a minute ago I had my fingers through those auburn tresses. My hands had been travelling down her body, her sweet moan against my neck as I had lunged deeper for a kiss-

Her words interrupt my train of thoughts, "I was just leaving."

She's quick. I don't even get the opportunity to persuade her again because Sora's already racing out the door. That, and I'm still recovering from the number she pulled on me. My pulse is still beating in a staccato rhythm, and it's taking a lot out of me to de-fluster myself.

Jun notices my dilemma. Her eyes are laughing at me as she arches an eyebrow at my pitiful state. " _Well_?"

"Shut up," I groan, moulding myself into the cushions of the sofa, wanting to disappear.

"There's nothing wrong with it. I'm proud of you. It's a good thing that you're broadening your scope and stepping back into the market. The world has a lot to offer, you know?" Jun adds, acting all high-and-mighty on me like she knows better. "Besides, she's hot. I'd go lesbian for her."

"You bloody will _not_ ," I scowl. I don't want a repeat of it either. Enough that Jun's not sleeping with me because she's now in relationship with another woman, but for her to comment about Sora - no thank you. I do _not_ want Jun 'converting' somebody I want to screw.

Jun chortles. "No need to get defensive."

"I'm not." I grumble, "You're the one who disrupted it."

She advances towards the sofa, plopping next to me. She gives me a mocking hug. "Is that so? Then I'm sorry that I prevented you from achieving sexual satisfaction."

"Fuck you," I shove her off, but I'm laughing already. "Why are you here anyway? Trouble in paradise? I wouldn't be surprised because your girlfriend is stubborn."

"Look who's talking," Jun remarks. "She's not that bad."

"She seems to like to stick her nose into other people's business."

"Rose is trying to help, Yamato," Jun scolds me. "She's the best source we have in regards to Takashi."

"So you're here because of Takashi?" I mumble, massaging my own temples.

My head is throbbing from the combination of alcohol and hormones no thanks to a particular redhead. I hadn't meant to drink so much, but worrying about Takashi all week had bothered me. And, as I'm beginning to sober up, I'm thinking that having those many drinks prior to Koushiro's launch, was not a good idea, as I grimace recalling how I had flirted with Sora. I may have went overboard - but then again, she looked hot tonight. I know that even if I wasn't intoxicated, I would have found myself gravitating to her anyway.

It's a good thing that Jun interrupted Sora and I because if we had gotten sucked into our lustful desires, we would have regretted it. I know I would have. Sleeping with anybody in our immediate friendship group is a given no-no. I've already learnt my lesson from being with Jun. Things get complicated.

It all stems down to Takashi. I blame Takashi for this. I wouldn't have gotten piss drunk if I hadn't been worrying about him. And if Jun's here because of Takashi-

"He dropped my by workplace tonight. Drunk and high," Jun sighs. "A great combination. My boss almost fired me on the spot."

"At least we know he's breathing," I grumble, but I'm relieved. At least we know he hasn't overdosed and passed out in the middle of street. "Where is he now?"

"At Yutaka's house."

"Why are you telling me this?" I don't mean to sound ruthless, but I'm tired of it. She could have called me in the morning instead of turning up at my apartment in the middle of the night.

Jun utters back, "I just wanted you to know because I knew you've been concerned about him."

"Yeah? And?" I know there's another reason why she's visited me this late at night. There has to be.

""This really needs to stop _now_ , Yamato." Her eyes are blazing with unwavering determination, "I want you to speak to Seiji-san about Takashi."

I raise an eyebrow. "You mean Satou right? My manager-"

"No, you know who I'm talking about," Jun snaps back. "Don't pretend that I'm getting my people mixed up. I may not be completely part of the band, but I've hung out with you all enough to know who is who."

"You want to speak to my boss?" I clarify.

Jun nods. "I want you to speak to your boss so that you can inform him that Takashi _needs_ to go to rehab."

This is Jun for you. Whenever she wants something, she'll sink her teeth into the matter and won't let go. Don't get me wrong, I know she means well...but sometimes I wish she could just leave things alone.

Involving Seiji will be disastrous. He's the band's father; the founder. Without him KOD would have never existed. He had been our original manager _and_ head of the company when the label had been new. He believed in us, and once we had reached our optimal success peak, he had hired Satou-san to take over, only dealing with the business side to our record company. It's not about his high position that intimidates me, it's the fact that he knows KOD inside-out, and that he'll be incredibly disappointed in Takashi _and_ us for letting our guitarist slip.

He had been devastated when the band had broke up, but I know it'll be worse when he finds about Takashi. Seiji always favoured Takashi over the rest of us because Takashi was the most well-behaved. And, because Takashi never met his father, he always looked up to Seiji. And...letting Seiji know about all the shit that has happening, involving Takashi, will be draining. He genuinely cares about all of us, which will make the guilt trip worse.

"If you want to dump him into rehab when he clearly doesn't want him to go, what good will it do?" I'm saying it how it is. Takashi won't improve if he's being forced into it. That much, I've figured out myself the hard way. I remind her, "I didn't need to go rehab when I took drugs."

"No, your case is different." Jun disagrees. "You did drugs only recreationally and you chose the ones that you wouldn't get addicted to."

"Right," I say, dully.

She's right, I had done it recreationally. I won't deny that, even though it's been over a decade ago. I was too scared to experiment with any hard drugs because the thought of losing control didn't sit well with me. It was a good thing I didn't because there's a high chance I would have turned out like Takashi...perhaps even worse.

A shiver runs up my spine when I recall finding him high, and laying down in his apartment. The image has been haunting me ever since I had seen him a week ago.

"If I didn't need to go to rehab, why are so confident that Takashi needs to go too?"

"Are you even hearing your own voice, Yamato?" Jun groans at me. "I told you this already; your case is different. You were dealing with your own issues. You had other ways to get you back on your feet. You tackled your demons in a different way."

"...and you guys helped me out too," I say, quietly.

My demons still haunted me; the memories still plague my mind. The sleepless nights. The dreams. The continuous therapy sessions. The darkness. Her long fingers grasping at my neck, preventing me from breathing, suffocating me...

She responds, "You had us."

Jun slides an arm around my hip, holding me close. She always know the right words to say, and is talented at figuring out the right thing to do. Perhaps it's from all the nights we've fucked. We'd have deep and meaningful talks afterwards, not leaving the bed and talking about anything and everything. It's an odd closeness that Jun and I share, and it's been a while since I've been this open to somebody. All these emotions have been festering up inside me, and I hadn't had an outlet.

I rest my head on her shoulder. "I still think it's my fault."

"It's not. Takashi didn't become an addict because of you," Jun reassures me. Although she says these words to comfort me, I'm not feeling the slightest bit settled. "He made a decision; a wrong decision...and it impacted him greatly."

I admit, "I just want him to know that the whole world isn't against him. We've been trying so hard to get him back on track, and every type we offer a supporting hand, he shakes us away. I hate feeling so useless."

"Since nothing seems to work, you know this is why you've got to speak to Seiji-san."

I frown. "You really are a manipulative bitch."

Jun socks me with her free hand. I pull an irritated face at her, but she can see the trace of amusement in my eyes as she returns a smirk at me.

Although I'm against contacting Satou-san, I know what Jun's said is right. I need to confront him sooner than later; because if it's later things might take a bad turn, and I think that I've already dealt with enough negativities in my life.

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For the highest floor in the building, one would think the CEO's office would be decked out. It's not because Seiji would never allow that.

He's a simple man, my boss. Most of the view of Tokyo can be seen from his window. The Sky Tree is peaking at the distant, and I can just barely make out the Rainbow Bridge. I can also see my work studio down the street. Asides from the jaw-dropping scenery, the desk is plain mahogany. The paperwork and folders are alphabetically ordered to perfection and there are shelves dedicated to his collection of _bonzai_ plants (Seiji's always been obsessed with the weird looking trees). Some things never change, even the fact that he's pouring me a cup of _genmai_ from his grey, ceramic teapot.

I curl my fingers around the cup, hands immediately warming up from the tea's temperature. My lips quirk upwards, "Thanks Seiji-sama."

The older man rolls his eyes at me. He rubs his eyes, pushing his new spectacles higher up the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. "Don't mock me, Yamato-kun. I'm too tired to cope with your antics."

I let out a low chuckle. Maybe he is. I swear he's balding. I don't tell him that though. If I do, he'd probably slice my salary in half. He's lucky the rest of the gang isn't here. If they were, he'd probably become bald in seconds. He always considered our band a troublesome group. He's often comment that if we weren't in a band, we'd be a bunch of delinquents. His comment holds some truth to be honest.

There's a magazine on his desk. A music one. It's not Japanese. The front cover is scattered with hangul symbols and there is a four-girl group beaming at me. Smiles perfect, poses in sync and styling on point. I pick it up, curiously flicking through the pages. "Are you into Korean girls now, or are you thinking about scouting for a group of female idols?"

"I have a wife and a family, you know?" Seiji clicks his tongue at me. "Who do you think I am?"

"Somebody who loves money," I wink. Seiji scoffs at me. I contribute my thoughts, "I'd prefer it the label not become known for having idols. Bands and singers who can _actually_ sing is why I'm here."

"Will you leave if I try and debut a female idol group?" Seiji asks me. He's joking. Ever since creating the label, his policy of focusing only music has always been his priority.

I stretch, leaning languidly back on my chair. "Why would I? More eye candy for me."

"I worry about you sometimes, Yamato," Seiji laughs. "Though, it is a good thing to settle for one woman. You'll find that one woman is enough to keep you in check. I know my wife does, and _boy_ does she make a big commotion out of it. Pick on girl who you love. You'll realise that companionship is needed when you're old enough."

"I'm thirty now," I remind him. I'm familiar with Seiji's life lessons because he _loves_ delivering them at full force to me. "Besides, even if love happens I think there is potential for it to wither away and die. Sometimes love isn't enough. It's _never_ enough…"

My thoughts close in for a second, and as I'm about to speak again, Seiji notices the petty hesitation in my voice.

His tone is calm. "We're not talking about love in general now, are we?"

I hadn't meant to insinuate my thoughts out loud, but it's like I can hear his brain ticking as he links it immediately to something _and_ somebody that I don't like talking about.

"You can think whatever the hell you want to think," I let out a light laugh. The laugh doesn't fool him.

Seiji and I have never shared a boss-employee relationship. Like I've mentioned before, he's like a father to the band. To me, he's cross between an older brother, and father figure. He's caring in his own way; blunt in his own way. He didn't baby KOD. When he thought we sounded shit, he'd tire us out by making us practice until my throat was raspy, and the band's fingers would be either blistering, numb or bleeding from over performing. He preferred to punch us in the face, than stab us in the back - and I liked that about him.

He's nice when he wants to be too. I recall at my father's funeral, he had silently stood next to me, as we both smoked together, staring at the dull tombstone. He hadn't uttered a word to me, but Seiji's quiet presence had meant a lot.

We weren't as close as much as we used to be. Despite it all, I consider my old manager a very special person to me. He had seen me at my worst and my highest, and he had regarded and always held high expectations for me. Although I was the youngest, he had appointed me leader of the band. When I didn't think it was possible me to achieve anything, he worded me up, encouraged me and scolded me off whenever I tried giving up. If it wasn't for this old man, I wouldn't be here, KOD wouldn't have made it.

"I think that I want to know what has required you to urgently visit me when I have a list of endless meetings-"

"You don't have meetings on Wednesday," I point out. "I know you and your schedule. Wednesdays are your secret rest day."

Seiji rocks back on his chair, arms folding and eyes gleaming as he studies me. "I can't hide anything from you, can I Yamato?"

"I don't think I can pass it by you either, Seiji-sama," I reply. We're at a stand-still, and Seiji knows that whatever reason I've decided to find him is an important one.

"I heard from Satou. I've been taking tabs via him about you lot. He told me a bit of it, but I need you to tell me the rest. What's happening with Takashi?"

I recognise his voice is laced in pain when he had spoken Takashi's name. Like I said earlier, Takashi always considered Seiji-san as a father, and the same could be said about Seiji who favoured Takashi the most out of the whole band.

I don't deny Seiji's correct assumption, responding back, "You've got to update his status to hiatus while he recovers. It's the only way. It's just...he won't go the rehab voluntarily."

Seiji exhales out deeply. This news is something he does not want to hear. "He's moved onto harder drugs?"

"Heroin."

" _Christ_." Seiji curses, closing his eyes as if wishing the problem can disappear. It won't, not when everything's hit rock bottom for Takashi. "Why are you only telling me this now?"

I give a defeated shrug because I don't know why either.

The fact is, all of us could have done something earlier. Perhaps it was a pride thing, an unspoken loyalty between the boys, that we had chosen to keep quiet about it. I think it's mainly to with us willing, hoping that Takashi would get better on his own terms. As years rolled by, Takashi had been deteriorating right under our noses. And I, we…have ourselves to blame.

"Fine." Seiji's voice is like steel as he continues to speak, "I get it, I understand. I'll get the company's psychiatrists involved and see if we can do anything about it…"

I add, "Do anything to convince Takashi. Even say that he has to attend a health check-up. Right now music is all he has left, he won't ignore it if you say that it's compulsory for all employees to be assessed. It's the only way to get him admitted to a clinic...he won't listen to me."

"He won't listen to anybody," Seiji states. "He must be admitted."

I agree with him. We then go through other patterns, and ways to make lessen the severity of the situation. While we'd get our team to announce it on the site that Takashi's on hiatus, it was my duty to confirm it amongst the current employees and ensure no rumours broke out. In addition, we discussed that I was to take over a few of Takashi's guitar gigs, which would inevitably increase my workload (not that I'm busy enough as it is).

Plans finally set, Seiji pours me another cup of tea. He surveys me through his thinly-rimmed spectacles.

"What?" I arch an eyebrow at him.

"Yamato, what about you? Have you been attending your sessions?" His lips curve downwards when he reads my face. His expression drops. He glares at me, "You haven't."

"There's nothing to worry about. I'm good. The sessions stopped over two years ago."

"I'll have a word with Makoto sensei."

I sigh. "I'd rather you not."

"I don't need _another_ one of my employees breaking down on me," Seiji scolds me. "You boys are important to me. You're all like my own children and I hate that this is happening. I _will_ talk to Makoto sensei and I will ensure that you return back to your therapy sessions."

I protest, "But-"

"No. My word is final."

As per usual, Seiji-sama proves to be much brutal than my father had been to me. I know he wants what's good for me, but it can be really be exasperating. Isn't it ironic that by ratting out my friend, I end up having to sacrifice myself too?

Karma's _really_ a bitch.

 _._

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 **(a/n)** I should be asleep. New material in this chp. Good night. Next chp will be more entertaining? Possibly? Haha ;)

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(i'll reply to the logged in reviews later today/this week)


	12. chapter eleven: chasing the sky

_say you'll stay_

 _don't come and go_

 _like you do_

 _sway my way_

 _yeah I need to know_

 _all about you_

.

(sway - bic runga ).

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 **[LIFELINES]**

chapter eleven: **c** hasing **t** he **s** ky

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Third coffee in and I'm still lethargic.

The clock has not struck noon, yet I'm struggling to keep up with work. Sleep had been hard last night. Hell, it's been hard to get decent shut eye for almost two weeks. Although I try to put all my thoughts about Takashi in a box somewhere in the back of my mind, it's still keeping me up. The more I attempt to not think about it; the more it eats me up. At least he's in rehab now.

It's not helping that Seiji is constantly talking me into going to see Makoto sensei again. I don't want to go to the sessions because then I'd I feel like I'm backtracking. It would feel like all my progress had vanished, and that I'd be back to square one.

My cranky mood hasn't been helping anybody either. With my hours at work increased, thanks to Takashi being off the radar, I've been getting more worn out. I wouldn't say I'm the most approachable person, but right now I'd rather have _nobody_ approach me.

Asides from the lack of sleep, it's not my fault everybody is irritating me. _Wired_ had been my first job this morning. The boys were fooling around in the studio, with one member even _daring_ to walk in half an hour late without a courtesy call. Let's just say, I told them to get the fuck out. Satou was pissed off at me, but I can't tolerate shit like that from the kids. They get given a golden opportunity, and then they go fucking it up. They're wasting time, as well as my own. Call me harsh, I don't care. If the band had even bothered to pay attention the sheet music, I may have been more lenient...but _fuck_ , they couldn't even do one bar without screwing it up. Just thinking about it is making my blood boil.

Then I had a meeting with this popular male artist. He's from a different music company, but he had sought me out to compose a song for him. During our meeting, he kept scribbling over my composition saying which note would sound better, and that my attention to detail was shit. Well, fuck off. I almost told him to do that, but Satou was eying me like hawk after I had blown it at Wired. Also, the artist wasn't a part of our label, so I was forced to hold in a growl and be all goddamn polite and courteous. All I wanted to do was kick that man out of my studio.

And now it's Miho. Good. Because _shit_ she is one of the few great artists in our label that can actually perform decently. That _is._..until she strikes three off-key notes.

For fuck's sake, what have I done wrong to deserve such an awful day? Can't I just walk back home and sleep this day away? I refill my cup with coffee. Gazing back up, I notice that Miho isn't inside the studio. I don't start my search for her because as soon as I had noted her absence, her piercing voice spills into the control room, "Do you have your man period today, senpai?"

"No." I grumpily fold my arms, glaring at her as she leans onto the wall besides me. Now I understand why women get peeved when they're in a shitty mood and are accused of having their menstrual cycle.

She accuses me, "Liar."

"Perhaps you should sing on key then I won't be as snippy."

"You're bringing it up now? I'm getting impatient, senpai. I want to debut, and maybe I'm getting all off-pitch because I'm beyond frustrated that you're not taking me seriously!"

I frown. "It's not that I'm not taking you seriously. I don't want you to rush into this, Miho. Fame isn't something you want to delve into straight away. It messes with you. I know from experience."

"It's not about you. How can I know what you're saying is true when you're not _letting_ me experience for myself?"

"I agreed to help you out," I reply. My voice is hesitant, but there's another thought that has been pulling on my mind. Every time I'm with Miho, I can't help but become worked up over it because it doesn't sit well with me. I repeat, "I agreed to help you out, only if you went to school. Why is it I'm hearing from your school that you haven't been attending classes?"

"Who gave you the right to find out this information?"

"When you signed a contract, stating that you'd attend your usual classes too!" I scold her. "I'm doing this for your own good. You need to keep your options available because even if you do end up being a successful solo artist, what if you wanted to go back to studying? You need to be a high school graduate to study for higher qualifications. No more skipping classes, Miho!"

"You're not my father." Her eyes are fiery, however I'm not intimidated by her.

"I'm not saying that I am," I sigh. I may not be related to her, but anybody assigned to me becomes my business and I _care_ about these kids. I want what's best for her, and I'm not backing down until she understands my perspective as well. "Look, if you want somebody else to mentor you, if you want to sign up for another label...I won't stop you."

Her shoulders droop, face faltering. "I'm sorry, Yamato. I just feel like I'm ready."

"Are you really?" I query her, not blinking. I don't mean to put doubt upon her shoulders, but I don't want her to regret this decision. Stepping into the spotlight also means saying goodbye to childhood, and it's something that can never be obtained back under the scrutinising eye of the public. When she doesn't respond to me, I speak up again, "I'm going to give you homework. Over the weekend, I want you to write down your aims. I want you to list the top three genres you want to sing."

She nods. At least she's listening and not protesting against me anymore. I keep going. "I _really_ want you to think about it carefully, Miho. So far I think your voice can be used in many genres, but you need to hone in and pick the genre that will drive your first album because once you've decided on it, it'll be almost permanent. I don't want you picking something you'll end up hating."

"Thanks senpai." Her tone is grateful. It better be. Miho's a prodigy waiting to happen. I want her to take the right steps in reaching her goals.

Miho surprises me by giving me a quick hug before exiting the recording area. Funny because the last hug I remember is that time two weeks ago when Jun hugged me after I almost slept with Sora.

 _Sora._

Her name is horrible. I keep thinking about her. Even when _Wired_ had been in the studio, her name kept popping up. One of their main tracks in their upcoming album is called 'Sora'. I shouldn't be making a big deal about it because titles involving the word 'sky' is common in terms of song titling, but whenever her name is brought up I think about the person who possesses the same name. It's like she's haunting me wherever I go. Her name is constantly brought up in mutual friends' conversations. Her eyes are a combination of honey-ruby. Her lips are luscious. I can still feel them against my skin. And her skin, is nice and soft. Her figure is fit, perfect and her voice is charming, a mild tingle in her laughter.

I can't stop thinking about her.

Maybe somebody's cursed me. I have enough going on when I think about Takashi and work, yet my mind likes to play tricks on me, that sometimes I find myself thinking about her during odd periods.

Like now.

I shake my head. _No._ I need to meet up with Koushiro.

Throwing a coat on, I wave at my receptionist and sprint outside. Checking my wrist watch, I decrease my pace when my watch proves to me that I've got ten minutes to spare. I adjust the mask around my mouth, pulling the strings of my charcoal-coloured hoodie so that only my blue eyes are visible. The sun shines on me, but disappears when I pass by a few skyscrapers. I enter the closest department store, slipping onto the escalator to the basement floor.

The food court is bustling with people. Everybody is focused on their lunch break, that it's easy to disguise myself amongst the crowd of businessmen and women. I buy a serve of Hiroshima Okonomiyaki from my favourite stall and then I scout around for a vacant table. I stop my hunt when I find a man with dark red hair, eyebrows furrowed and pouring over his laptop. A ceramic bowl of steaming tempura udon remains untouched on the table. I chuckle at the sight. Even during Koushiro's break, he still is preoccupied with work.

Ruffling his hair to make him notice my arrival, I take a seat across him. "Hey Kou."

It's only then that Koushiro looks over to me.

"Did you mention that you're having lunch with me to Taichi?" He surveys me reluctantly.

In a sense, it almost feels scandalous. It's not always that Koushiro and I have lunch together. We do catch up every now and again because our work places are close to each other, but usually we have company - and that company is mainly Taichi. I hadn't suggested to Koushiro that Taichi tag along, and it appears that Koushiro hadn't either. Koushiro's enquiry about Taichi means that he's enduring the same thing I have with our common, _irritating_ , friend.

"No." Koushiro lets out a sigh of relief at my response. I snicker. "Is he bothering you too lately? Let me guess...it's about Mimi?"

"I'm so sick of hearing him moan and groan about it!" Koushiro grumbles.

I find this amusing because Koushiro isn't the type to complain. He's always looking around for better options, ways to resolve issues. However, whenever it comes to relationships and friends with no darn common sense (aka Taichi), his patience - like any other human - is hanging on a very small string.

"Then don't reply to him."

"But he keeps texting and calling me!"

"Don't reply," I say again. I slice my okonomiyaki into even pieces with my chopsticks.

We're not being the nicest, considerate friends here, but sometimes talking to Taichi when he's in one of these moods makes it worse. He ends up going into spiels that is in continuous circular motion, repeating things over and over again until your ears bleed out. The more attention you give him; the more dramatic he gets.

There was some argument that happened between Mimi and him last week. Every night he's been asking me to go out for a drink, drunk dialling me and being - _practically_ \- impossible. I hadn't completely left him out to dry. The first few times I was tolerant. Yet, when I realised that the pattern would keep continuing, it's then that I had started to avoid Taichi like the plague.

An argument between Taichi and Mimi never lasts long, so I can't fake concerned for too long when I know that the couple will be fine. Sometimes it's best to let the the two involved in the fight dispute it amongst themselves rather than getting involved. When friends stick their noses into a couple's business, things can get messy. And, let me tell you this, I have _enough_ mess on my plate.

"Taichi and Mimi will be fine," I mutter bluntly, munching my food. "They'll get back together. It's always the case."

"That's true. Their childishness never ceases to amaze me," Koushiro answers.

I reply, "But that's them."

"And how unfortunate it is…"

We glance at each other with sour expressions. Our friends really are idiots.

Koushiro finally makes a start on his udon. He's wearing reading glasses, so it's kinda funny watching him trying to defog his lens from the steam. It's the first time I've cracked a smile all day. Witnessing Koushiro struggle in such an awkward manner is always amusing.

My phone rings. I note it's Taichi and I choose not to pick it up. It rings out. Koushiro gives me an empathetic glance, until his phone starts ringing too. We both know he wants us to accompany him for another drink. It's a Thursday. I might have given it a second thought if was a Friday or Saturday, but it's a weeknight and I have other obligations tonight.

The phone's ear-piercing ringing is still blaring in my mind. Everything is swarming, making my brain feel congested. My stomach is even tumbling from all the commotion.

"You wouldn't have an aspirin on you by any chance, Kou? I know you keep a secret stash with you wherever you go. My head is _killing_ me."

"I'll check..." As Koushiro digs through his belongings for his medication bag, he pauses moving. "Where do you recommend taking a woman for a date?"

" _What?"_

The headache can wait. The computer genius' cheeks are turning bright red as he pretends to not look at my gawking face. Once in a blue moon does Koushiro goes on a date, even less seen with a person of the opposite sex (asides our mutual friends). If Taichi was here, he'd make some excited speech and announce some sort of celebration. Perhaps it's a good thing he isn't here because I'm sure Koushiro will melt into a puddle of embarrassment.

Maybe this is why Koushiro specifically wanted to hang out with me today? He wants my opinion without being ridiculed. He must have picked me as the sensible choice considering maturity is not in my brother's dictionary and Taichi would never let him hear the end of it.

I try to hold a straight face, biting onto the tip of my tongue before I can formulate a proper reply. Koushiro's approached me because he trusts me, and I don't want to embarrass him - as much as I want to. I'm not that mean. Well, I am mean...I can be mean, but after everything today, I can afford to be nice for once.

"Who is this mysterious woman, Kou?"

Koushiro scrolls through his phone, and shows me a picture of her. It's not from a dating app, but a group photo with all his workmates. Next to him, there's this pretty blond. No wonder Koushiro's nervous right now. I vaguely remember the woman from his launch. I knew there was something going on between the two.

"She looks like a fine lady," I admit. "Easy on the eyes too."

"Maybe even too good looking for me. She looks like a model."

"Don't act so disheartened," I reprimand him. I wag my eyebrows at him. "You're a handsome man too."

Koushiro finally chuckles, taut shoulders loosening up. Even though I'm hopeless, myself, whenever it comes to dates, I still give Koushiro some pointers and advice based on my minimal experience. Koushiro then talks about how he's going to see Sora prior to the date to ask for advice, and because he needs to pass a message that the other girls had told him to send to her.

I know there's more to it. I had heard whispers, which is expected when we have the same group of friends. From babysitting Takeru's kids last week, I've heard that some fight happened between Mimi and Sora. This fight has impacted the girls, and it appears that Sora has been ignoring them.

No matter what, it seems I can't escape from Sora.

I've been trying to forget about her, about my adolescent-like raging hormones. There's something about her stirs me. The thought of her reminds me of how close we had been, how pleasurable the kisses had been, how tempting she was in my arms…

" _Yamato_?"

God damn it, I need an aspirin.

"What about you? Are you interested in somebody? I did see you leave my launch with Sora…is there something happening between you guys?"

 _Great_. Koushiro's teasing me now. What has the world come to? His question has got me thinking. _Is_ there something going on between Sora and I? Is it just sexual attraction? Is it me or am I thinking _way_ into it?

"...if you like each other-"

I don't let him finish the sentence, finally combusting as I speak over him. "I've been sleeping with a recently diagnosed lesbian. My career has reached rocket point, and as for my love life? ...Well, it's non-existent. That is, until this crazy redhead runs in front of my motorbike." I bark, "Now, for the love of God, pass me a darn aspirin, Koushiro!"

And I haven't even added Takashi's situation into my outburst, but it's enough to cause Koushiro to pop a pill into my hand. I swallow the medication down, following the tablet with a bottle of water. I almost dry-retch at the sensation. I can never can get used to the taste of meds. They taste chalky and disgusting. To me, anything medical related is a darn turn off.

Koushiro is chuckling at my dilemma. "So you like her?"

"I'm not admitting anything." I cross my arms. Hell, it's just a crush that I'll probably grow a bridge and get over anyway. "Sora _is_ quite attractive though…"

He guffaws at me. Traitor.

So what? I may have admitted to Koushiro that I do find Sora appealing, but I know he'll keep his mouth shut about, and not spread it amongst our friends.

I turn the conversation back onto Koushiro's date this evening. Luckily for me, he decides letting go of my minor crush and starts talking about his date. She seems legit, but I'd probably have to meet her in person to see if she's genuine. Despite her being hot, I don't want her to go after Kou's money.

Before I know it, half an hour has crept by. I groan to myself at the thought of heading to the studio. There's a vocal training class I need to teach. As I'm about to head off, Koushiro calls after me, "You're not going to hang with Taichi tonight then?"

"Even if I wanted to - which I _don't_ \- I can't," I say. "I'm babysitting tonight."

Koushiro lets out an exasperated sigh. "We should probably check on him at some point…"

"Yes, but not tonight. We both have plans." I promise, "I'll drop by his place tomorrow. I'll give you an update."

He gives me the thumbs up, satisfied with my answer.

I would have been more satisfied if it had been Kou who volunteered to do it, but I guess we have to take our best friend in turns. Taichi can be quite the handful when he wants to be, and I'm not looking forward to his drama. Let's just hope my headache subsides by then.

.

* * *

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Tonight's meant to be a Thursday breezy night. Takeru and Hikari go on their weekly date, I look after their kids, feed them, get them changed, and then get them all set up for bed. It's taken a while to become acquainted with the kids' routines, but after my fair share of Thursday nights in with them, I've developed a rapport to know how to manhandle them without a catastrophe occurring.

Unfortunately, the pattern to get all three kids tucked in by eight o'clock is now invalid because I had conveniently received a phone call on my brother's landline.

" _Hey Takeru. Do me a fave and come over to the sports bar right next to Nezu eki? Your moronic brother-in-law had a bit too drink and is just about to crash on me-"_

"Sora?" I had queried, recognising the voice. "It's me. Yamato."

Her tone was distressed, completely frantic as she rants on about Takeru's moronic brother-in-law (Taichi) and how is dead drunk at some sports bar. Taichi, throughout the conversation, would yell obscenely over the line in his irksome, wasted state. Because it was Takeru whom Sora had wanted to talk to, she had tried to brush me off, saying that she'll manage Taichi by herself ( _yeah right_ ), but I had refused to have any of it.

Why? Because I had caught onto her silent plea. And also, despite Sora being in a desperate situation, I'm familiar how Taichi is whenever he is in this type of stupor. He is an _absolute_ menace to deal with. Not even I can cope with when Taichi's by himself and has reached a his drunken enlightenment. The guy's a real pain in the butt.

And, as petty as it was, I had been eager to meet Sora again. I've given up trying to rid her from my mind, and now that she's within my grasp again, I can't stop myself from wanting to go see her. I mean, it's an improvement that I do instead of mulling and thinking about her, right? Yeah, I know I'm wrong. But _still_ …

The kids weren't happy when I strapped them in the car. Poor Keita was even crying, while Hiroto was non-stop telling me that his parents said they weren't allowed to go outside after eight pm. Risa, my angel, was the less combative, but when you have two out of three kids resisting...let's just say that things can get _very_ difficult.

I had changed the heavy metal to one of Chopin's nocturnes, the piano melody floating out from the speakers, and after ten minutes of driving the kids doze off. I never could discard Chopin from my playlist. His music always has the tendency to relax me. My mother had used to play Chopin to Takeru and I when we were children, opting not to sing (she could never sing, singing was dad's forte), and have her long fingers sweep back and forth the piano keys to lull us asleep. Chopin works miracles if his music still has the same effect for my niece and nephews.

Parking my car next to the bar, I glance at the three kids and lock the door. It's a good thing my windows are tinted, otherwise I would have been more hesitant to leave them. Then again, I know this area from the back of my hand. It generally is a safe place, and I won't be leaving them alone for too long.

The wind chimes glitter when I walk in. A few heads turn. I see Sora with Taichi at the bar. Her eyes reach mine and I let out a wry smile when I motion at Taichi's passed out figure. I mouth at her, ' _What an idiot_.'

Her eyes glitter with laughter, nodding.

Despite appearing exhausted and drained from babysitting my idiot friend, she still is pretty, dressed casual and sweet. A black medium-length pencil skirt, a cream blouse and a navy cardigan. .Then again, she's one of those women who will look good in everything, considering her figure is fit.

Simple corporate wear, but her long legs compensate for the plain outfit as the skirt hikes higher from the way she's sitting on the stool. Not that I'm looking…

Not wanting to get caught staring nor leave the children unsupervised, I get down to business and let out an inward groan as my eyes land on Taichi's resting figure. Exhaling, I lean forward, using my core to pull Taichi out from his seat. It's hard to budge him, and after another tug Taichi's eyes briefly open and he gives a sloppy smile, "You've come to my rescue, Yama baby."

I want to murder him.

" _Seriously_?" Sora snarls on my behalf. "No wonder Mimi's left you."

The comment makes sense. If this is why Taichi's been drinking every night, then it's probably because they've 'broken up'...and we all know by that saying is that the couple are on a break and will get together soon. Then again, it's been a week. This would have to be a record for them.

Before I ask Taichi about it, his eyes close. Sleeping again. Great. I hope I had woken him enough so that he could help manoeuvre his own body himself, but I guess it's all on me now. I'm not going to the gym for a year. I drag him to the car, not bothering that I'm hitting his body onto the wall, tables and random inanimate objects. Sora cringes when his right foot stubs itself against the rubbish bin on the street. It's his fault he's this heavy and that he can't take responsibility of his own body.

I throw him on the front seat, wiping the sweat that's accumulated on my forehead. It's hard labour and Taichi owe me big for this. Forget visiting him at his house tomorrow, I'm going to report to Koushiro how much of a dickhead he is...and, perhaps, the fact that Taichi and Mimi have broken up.

Starting the engine, the kids greet Sora. Risa is jabbing Taichi with her plastic sword, wondering why Uncle Taichi is sick. Sora informs my niece that he's suffering from a mental disorder called ' _daftness_ ' and I can't help but chuckle at her comment.

Glancing at her through the rearview mirror, I mutter, "Don't brainwash them, Sora."

Hiroto slices into our conversation, face scrunched up in impatience. "Hurry up, Uncle Yamato! You promised you'd finish that pirate story before papa and mama gets home!"

"Aye Aye, Captain." I salute to him.

I'm glad that Sora didn't leave. She could have left at the bar, but seeing her invite herself to join us is good. She's more comfortable around me now. Even if she hadn't invited herself, I would have made her come along with us and made some lame excuse that I needed a second pair of eyes on Taichi.

How pathetic am I?

When we arrive back to my brother's place, I get outside of the car and I go to Taichi's side. Sora's already opened the door and is unfastening his seatbelt. I laugh out loud when I see her sneakily punch Taichi on the arm. She packs a mean punch. I'm sure Taichi's arm will bruise tomorrow, as other parts of his body from my insensitive manhandling of his body.

Nevertheless, Sora isn't somebody to be messed with. A lesson I've learnt ever since I've met her. I say, "You're taking advantage of a man that's out cold."

"Serves him right," she sniffs.

And I agree with her. I don't tell her this because it might make her inflict more damage on Taichi's unprotected state.

She makes her way to carry out Taichi of the car. I shake my head at her for doing it alone, taking Taichi's other side as we bring him into the house. Headlights wash over us, blinding our vision. Takeru and Hikari are back.

My brother jogs up to us. He glances at me, then at Taichi. He snorts, taking Sora's spot as he gives me a hand to take Taichi inside.

"Can I leave another baby at yours tonight?" I murmur. There's no way I'm going to be yanking Taichi up to my apartment. I'm already winded from transferring his sorry ass state. I don't have any more energy left.

"Let's take him to the spare room," Takeru responds.

We drop Taichi onto the bed and Hiroto and Risa jump onto the bed with him. They're jumping onto the mattress like it's a trampoline. Taichi moans as Takeru throws a blanket over his brother-in-law.

"Kids, leave Uncle Taichi alone," Takeru speaks, rather sternly.

"I'd rather promote their actions," I grumble.

Takeru steps on my foot. He leans in to whisper to me, "Don't interrupt. I'm disciplining them here, Yamato. They won't take me seriously if you talk that way."

"Great job," I roll my eyes.

"Want to hang out for some tea? Grandma's sent a fresh brew, she told me to share it with you." Takeru laughs. "Not that I really want to."

"Sure." I shrug.

Knowing my job of babysitting is done, lingering to have tea with Takeru and Hikari does sound appealing. Usually I'd be keen to leave and get the fuck out after I've done my uncle duties, but Sora intrigues me and I want to get to know her more. I assume she'll have a drink with us too since she's already here.

As we head back to the living room, I realise the women are still outside. Takeru seems confused too, as he heads out to the front of the house. He holds a hand up to stop me from going out, when he gestures at Hikari and Sora. Whatever they're talking about, it seems serious. And then I remember. Sora hasn't been speaking to any of the girls.

Takeru finds an opportunity and intervenes. "Sora, did you want to come in for tea?"

"I really need to go. I have work in the morning and I need time to sleep. It's been a big day," Sora responds. Her tone is frazzled, worked up even. Her amused, tired tone is now gone. Anybody can tell from her voice that she does not want to be here.

So much for tea.

Hikari protests, _"But_ -"

"I'm going."

Without another word, I hear her footsteps leave. Takeru folds his arms, uncertain and Hikari rushes inside. Her eyes are a bit watery as she walks past me, shutting herself inside her bedroom.

Takeru and I exchange looks. We don't know the full picture. I put a hand on his shoulder, "You go to your wife, I'll see if Sora is alright."

"Are you sure?" Takeru questions me, uncertain.

"Yeah," I say. And I follow it with something I don't expect myself to say to him, "I can't let her run away from me again this time."

Takeru repeats. "This time?"

I don't have the courage to look back to gaze into my brother's knowing eyes. As sociable, joking around and talkative as he is, Takeru's always been the most observant.

And, _fuck_ , perhaps I might like Sora after all...

I chase after her.  
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* * *

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 **(a/n)** As you can see, it's clearly obvious that Yamato was/is attracted to Sora first. :) I'm still finding it weird recapping Bittersweet from his POV. I try to add new scenes to Sora/Yamato's interactions, but sometimes it doesn't seem fitting too...so I leave things completely the same.

I'm slowly fleshing Yamato's character more out. However there's just so _much_ story yet to tell xD Anyway, have a good weekend! Thanks for reading!

 **P.S.** If you're worried that I left the kids in the car for a brief period (despite this being completely fictional), I probably would too... _only_ in Japan though xD Any other country, I'd probably freak. Haha.


	13. chapter twelve: friend-zoned

_unzip it girl_

 _drop it down_

 _get on the sheets_

 _let's play it loud,_

some music

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( secret - miyavi )

* * *

 **.**

 **[LIFELINES]**

chapter twelve: **f** riend- **z** oned

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* * *

 *** * SMUT ALERT * ***

* * *

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You know, it's like shopping.

There's this leather jacket you want to buy (I have a collection of them), but then you check the price tag and you immediately put it back onto the rack because it's too expensive. You give it a decent amount of time to stir in your mind, yet you are _still_ thinking about that same jacket. Thus you surmise that you actually _do_ like the jacket and that it was not just a spur-of-the-moment thing. Therefore, you go back to the store to purchase that jacket.

The same could be said when you're interested in a person.

Yeah this is a shit way to make an analogy, but you get the gist of what I'm trying to say, right? I'm not like Taichi, relying on gut feeling and impulse. For me, I tend to think things through a lot. I do a double-take before I commit to something I want.

If I weren't interested in her, I would have stopped myself. I wouldn't have run after her. I wouldn't have worried about her.

Yet, here I am racing after her. And man, she's fast. Her light amble has turned into a sprint. I now know that she isn't lying when she had mentioned to me that she used to play soccer. She's fit, that or maybe I've smoked too many cigarettes in my lifetime.

Maybe I just want to fuck her. Maybe it's because she's hot. Maybe because she's not like other women I've met. Maybe because there's something different about her...something that makes me to _want_ to know her.

She dashes into a convenient store. When I get to the Family Mart she's walked into, I'm panting, slightly out of breath. I pause when I see her. She's standing in front of the beverage section. Her shoulders are drooped, hands clutching tightly onto her bag. She's not moving, as if waiting for a random beverage to choose itself, or is she even thinking about what she wants?

What am I doing here anyway? It really isn't my business to butt in. Sora _isn't_ my business. However, I promised Takeru to keep an eye on her. _Bullshit_. If linger around like a stalker this long, I might as well go inside.

The glass doors sense me, opening apart as I enter. She keeps standing there, eyes staring vacantly at the beer section. Whatever is bothering her, it's bothering her deep.

I reach across her and grab two cans of _Kirins_. She doesn't even pay attention to the fact that I'm there, until I press one of the cans onto the crook of her neck. She shivers. Finally a reaction. Sora blinks a couple of times, discerning silently why I'm here.

"It's on me. I'll take you home, Takenouchi."

She doesn't protest when I pay for the drinks at the counter. She doesn't protest when I put an arm over her shoulder, guiding her to my car. In fact, she doesn't speak a single word.

The drive to hers is silent. She hadn't told me her address, but I remember it from last time. It's weird not having her speak, and it feels weirder for me to utter a word now too because she obviously isn't in a conversational mood. Her fingers are still wrapped around the strap of her handbag. The beer remains forgotten on the drink holder. Something's bothering her.

When I park the car in front of her apartment complex, I watch as she unbuckles herself. The feat on its own seems to be a difficult task, and by then I can't stand it.

I speak up, "Hey."

She doesn't hear me, or she doesn't choose to hear me? It's one or the other. The thing is, I don't want her being on her own if she's like this. When people get into these trance-like states, it's never a good thing. I know from experience, and it's a void that mustn't be taken lightly. It scares me.

I lock the door, preventing her from getting out. When she knows I've locked her in, it's only then that she angles her head to stare directly at me.

"What's wrong?" I try again.

It's not the best question. It's a question that pisses everybody off, especially when they don't want to speak about their problems. Like the shiver from the beer, at least the glint of fire in her eyes is some sign of reaction.

"Clearly you're upset. What's the deal with Hikari? I've known her all my life and _nobody_ fights with Hikari." She's not replying, so I keep going, "Unless you're Takeru, but that's another story."

In a strained voice, she mutters, "Let me out, Yamato."

"Fine, keep shutting everybody out," I dryly laugh at her.

Typical. She's avoiding the subject. Another person would have let it slide, but I don't. I know all the tactics whenever it comes to not wanting to address something. The rules are implanted in my mind; I know them off by heart, so well that she doesn't fool me.

The laugh triggers her.

Her eyes are fierce as she scowls, "What do you want me to say? This is between Mimi and I, and Hikari isn't somebody I want to talk to right now. Right now I don't feel like talking to anybody. And the last thing I need is to involve you!"

I don't miss a beat. "Aren't I already involved? Anything that revolves around Taichi becomes my problem too. It can't be _that_ bad. Taichi and Mimi are doing the _real_ fighting right now, so I'm sure that Mimi and you will talk again."

"You make it sound simple," she replies. "What makes you think I even want to talk to her?"

Whatever spat is going between Mimi and Sora, this has nothing to do with how Sora's acting right now. Something, underneath Sora's surface, is eating away at her. She mightn't want to admit it, but I'm all for showing her true colours. I may not know everything about the redhead, but I call tell when somebody is lying to themselves.

We bicker a bit longer. Although this is one of the serious conversations we've ever had, while bantering, it's nice to see her finally let it out.

And then I get to the main topic of discussion...

I gaze at her. "It's about you."

She arches an eyebrow at me, saying incredulously. " _Me?"_

I explain to her my thoughts. How she's lost it somewhere. Something's made her lose her fitting. That there has to be another factor, another thing that is irking her inside. She dislikes it. She hates me reading her like this, but then again maybe it's because I feel like I'm reading myself in her too...that's what's making it so easy.

"Is it because you're always keeping an eye out for others that you don't know what you want for yourself-"

"Shut it, Yamato!" she snaps. "What gives you the right to judge me!? You don't even _know_ me, for goodness sake!"

"I may not know everything about you, Sora, but I'm not the one tearing up."

She's choking up, tears welling up from the bottom of her eyes. Even when she's crying, how can she look so pretty? So fragile, yet so strong? She doesn't even realise she's doing it, until I bring it up like the asshole I can be.

Yeah, I'm an ass. This is a _great_ way to get to know her, Yamato. I really want to smash my head against the windscreen for potentially losing my only chance with her.

"Open the door," she demands me.

I listen to her this time, unlocking the door and watching as she quickly darts out, slamming the door behind her. It's the most I can do for being an idiot to her. She doesn't need me to say shit like that to her. However, I can't let her get away with her pretending that everything is fine, when it clearly isn't. I had taken her home for a reason, and I had _also_ lost my opportunity. The tears that had slid down her cheek as she had left the car reminds me what an asshole I've been. I had made her cry. The guilt tumbling in my stomach makes me leave my car. She doesn't even notice that I follow her to the apartment. She balances on one foot, then the other as she slips off her shoes. As she's about to shut the door, I use my arm to block it from closing.

Sora's startled when she glimpses me. Her breathing is slightly hitched as she closes her eyes tightly, then opens them again to figure out if she's seeing things or not.

"I don't recall giving you permission to visit."

"Perhaps I'm a gatecrasher," I softly chuckle.

I conjure up an excuse that I don't like leaving crying girls, despite it was I who had made her cry. She doesn't seem all that impressed until I pass her a handkerchief. Sora looks at me, reluctantly, taking the fabric into her hands as she gently presses it against her eyes. She surveys that I haven't left yet. She doesn't need to tell me that she wants me to leave, but I want to ensure that she's fine - that she won't do anything stupid - before I head back home.

"Listen, Yamato, it isn't your fault that I had a mini breakdown. I'm sorry that you had to witness it...but don't think anything of it. Really, it's no big deal. I'm fine. You should really get going. It's late."

Her lies irritate me more, so I stubbornly take myself in, not waiting for her to offer me entry. Kicking my shoes off, aligning them on the bottom step, I head down the hallway and murmur to her, "Aren't you going to make your guest some tea?"

If she won't have tea with me at Takeru's, the least she could do is brew me some at hers. I'm being difficult, but right now I don't care. I've had a hell of a week, and if hanging out with Sora has brought my stress levels down (even if she is the one suffering from my presence), I'll indulge myself with her, even if it's just for a minute - any excuse to be with her.

"Yamato. Go home. _Please._ "

Her plea makes me pivot back to her. I already told her that I wasn't leaving. Is she this keen to kick me out of her apartment? Does she really want to be by herself? Does she really want me to not be here?

My gaze catches hers. She flinches as my eyes bore into her. I may be abrupt, rude and selfish about this whole fiasco, but I don't need another person breaking down on me. Not now.

"If something's bothering you, you should say it flat out," I lecture her, coldly. "The more you keep it inside, the more angry you become."

"But I-"

To get her to stop talking, I walk her into the wall. Her back is against it and her chest falls up and down. I'm almost tempted to look down at her breasts, but my eyes stay focused on hers. If her back isn't resting against the wall, her arms would be around me. I hate how she's denying it. In a way, looking at her, again, reminds me of myself. I've done this countless of times. I've kept so many things inside of me, that I always feel like I'm imploding, shattering into pieces on the inside. And, with Sora, I don't want her to go through this. It's painful, unnecessary and it mentally drains you. It's a mistake that I do over and over again.

And, in that split moment, she breaks eye contact with me and _has_ to bite her bottom lip.

It's then, I know, that I won't let her go. I want to finish what we started back at my place two weeks ago. Her eyes has darkened in lust and she moans lightly as I lean forward, pushing my knee between her legs. She doesn't swat me back, or refuse me. She licks her lips. She's almost raising an eyebrow, as if daring for me to make a move. The attraction has always been there, and right now lust is radiating from her in volumes. I contain a growl, seeing how defenceless we are both are to each other.

"I used to be like you," I say, willing for my voice to be smooth and steady. If she wants to play this way, I'll return her the favour. I continue, "That's why you need to stop keeping people out."

The corners of her mouth curl upwards. "Perhaps...but that doesn't answer to why you've got me unnecessarily against the wall."

"Maybe I've always wanted to do this?" I whisper into her ear. I'm not lying about this either. She knows this too. Her eyes give her away, burning and sultry.

 _Shit…_

My hand runs through her hair, then dips down to touch her cheek. It's still damp from her tears. Her gaze still intense, as my pulse rises. I want her. She wants me...yet we're at a standstill. The first person to make the move will be the deciding factor whether we're going to fuck tonight.

Her eyes study me. She breathlessly says, "Jun?"

Oh. She really things we're an item. I explain to her that we were never together, and she surprises me when she replies in a husky voice, "Good."

Is this her sign of permission?

I take my chances, moving my knee higher between her thighs. She sighs, her long legs wrapping around my knee as she adjusts to the new position. Sora then gives a small nod, that if I hadn't been this close to her I wouldn't have noticed her cave in.

 _She's going to corrupt me..._

My lips are on her neck. I hum in delight as I watch her eyes roll back, moaning, making me want to dive in further. She tastes like vanilla, plain and subtle, not overbearing but enough to make you long for more. And damn it, she's beautiful.

Why hadn't any of the boys told me about her earlier? They described her as the good friend. The one putting the girls in their place. Possessed by wanderlust. Loves her soccer...yet she's much more than all those descriptions. There's so much more to her.

I kiss her lips until they're swollen, biting and sucking. I hold back a groan when her arms loop around my neck, our tongues seeking to dominate the other. She smirks when I complain, "Darn it, Sora."

We've made it to the bedroom. She's already wriggling out of her skirt as I get rid of her cardigan. I take longer removing her blouse, allowing my hands to glide down her body. Black lingerie. Laced lingerie. _Christ_. She doesn't give me time to think, to get my mind of the gutter, as she tugs onto my collar, making our lips collide once again.

I carry her onto the sheets, slowly bringing her back onto the mattress. She whimpers into my mouth when I massage her breasts. Her responsiveness encourages me on as I dip my hand between her legs. She pushes me away, pushing me onto the bed so that she can undress me this time.

We stare at each other. We've past the safety zone. There's no turning back now. There's a wildness in her eyes, like she wants to devour me. I'm sure the same want is reflected in mine.

I reach around her, unhooking her bra. On instinct, she's about to cover her breasts, but I chuckle when I lean over her body, biting on her neck then leaving a trail of kisses until I reach her mounds. Her pelvis arches as my left hand skims past her toned abdomen, and into her underwear. She shuffles, trying to move away, but it's to no avail when she lets out a gasp when I slip a finger into her. Her mouth widens as I slip another finger inside her, pumping them in and out in slow motion. Her moans are feverish, filled with pleasure and the noise that escapes her mouth makes me feel hotter, as she writhes from my touch.

She reaches her peak, body rippling in ecstasy as she pants frantically for breath. I curl my fingers inside her and she groans, swatting my hand away. She changes position, straddling me. If I had thought she was hot earlier, she's a bloody inferno right now. Her hands on my body prickle my body with adulterated warmth and static.

I smirk at our new position, "Are you sure?"

Sora dryly laughs at me, mounting on me and the next thing I know, I'm inside her. She meets each of my thrusts, riding on me, clutching onto me for her dear life. Her nails scratch against my back. I feel the vibrations of her moans in our kiss, and it makes me quicken the pace. A tingling sensation waves over my body and soon we both climax together.

Spent, she collapses onto me, shuddering. I tuck my head onto the side of her neck, grasping her close against my body. Closing my eyes, I enjoy the aftermath as our breaths become steadier, relaxed, and finally sated. Perhaps this is what we had wanted all along, what we needed to do to eliminate our sexual tension that had been quietly lurking within the both of us.

She gives me one final kiss on the lips, and fidgets her position for a bit, getting used to her naked body on top of mine. I smile, soothing her, caressing her back. She's about to fall asleep until my mouth finds hers and, soon enough, we're going for another round.

Who knows if we'll even get any sleep tonight?

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* * *

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Gazing at myself in the bathroom mirror, I half-turn and let out a laugh when I see the trail of pink, scratches on my back. Sora's really done a number on me. Payback, I guess, since I had pretty much covered her neck with hickeys. Call me sadistic, but I liked feeling her breathing hitch and the light moan she'd make whenever my lips were on her neck.

I'm about to throw my shirt on, but I stop. It's too hot in Sora's apartment, and instead of leaving...am I meant to leave? This isn't an ordinary one-night stand. I _know_ her. And if she wanted to sleep again with me, I'd make it happen. So what terms are we on? What are we to each other?

My headache, that has been dampened, has now reemerged.

I saunter back into the bedroom. It still smells like sex. Sora's laying in the centre of the bed, white sheets half on her naked body, as she sleeps on. The afterglow is still working on her because she looks stunning laying there, her fiery red hair contrasting brilliantly against the white sheets. A fiery goddess. That's what she looks like.

After fixing up the sheet properly over her body, I amble out of the room. There's a room opposite to Sora's and because I'm feeling mischievous, I open the closed door out of curiosity.

Ah huh! So it _does_ exist.

The room consists of Sora's army of teddy bears. I thought that everybody had been joking about Sora's addiction, but as I stare at all the beady eyes looking back at me, I know that their rumours are actual truths: a scary truth. I thought my collection of leather jackets had been bad enough, yet seeing a room full of teddy bears is quite terrifying. Imagine coming across the room prior to not knowing Sora's unhealthy obsession? It would feel like you were in the middle of a horror movie and you were the prey to some psychopath.

I advance down the hallway and into the open spaced living room. The state of Sora's home is between cluttered and tidy. There's a yoga matt stashed behind a bookshelf. The bookshelf mainly consists of travel books and the odd novel.

Photos of herself, friends, family and landscape cover her ivory-painted walls. There's one of her skydiving. A younger photo of her and Mimi as children. Another photo with Mimi, Miyako and Hikari. And there's even a photo of her grinning widely, in soccer gear, in between her proud parents who are both holding her hands.

There's even this breath-taking photograph of the ocean that is spread out over her TV unit. I know it's a photo that was taken by Hikari, considering I own the exact same one in a smaller size that I keep in my private office at the studio.

On the steel coffee table, there's a big stack of magazines. Flicking through the stack, I find her magazine interest genres range from sports (specifically tennis and soccer), interior decorating, to even travelling (with the title saying the top 20 best waterfalls in the world). Sora seems to have an eclectic taste whenever it relates to her hobbies. It's quite interesting. For me, it's always been music. I could never think out of that box because music had always been my main focus.

I shake my head to myself. Yeah, I've really fucked this one up.

The one, rare time, I find a lady interesting and I don't even have the balls to ask her out on a date. I, of course, had to go ahead of time and screw her first. This is going to turn out bad. What was I thinking? Above all, she's friends with my friends. If either of us end up having a fall out, it will affect our relationships with them. I mean, take Taichi and Mimi for instance; they are _permanently_ brawling and although her fights are never super serious, it _does_ take a toll on all of us.

I wouldn't say that Sora is innocent either; there is more her than meets the eye. And when we slept together, she was doing things would make _any_ man go crazy. But for her to be with me? It feels false; a fake reality. I feel like I'm too rough around the edges for her, and that she really is too good for me. Compared to her, I'm the living devil. I'm a truckload of issues, and she doesn't need me. She deserves somebody better.

God, seriously, _what_ am I thinking? It's not like anything is going to come out of this.

I absentmindedly stroll into the kitchen. Maybe I'll cook us some breakfast?

Or maybe I should leave…

No. I don't want her to think I just wanted to fuck her. That's not right. Is there even a right or wrong in this current situation? I should still do the common courtesy and say bye to her. A parting breakfast does seem civil. We're friends, are we not?

As I peek into the fridge and the wooden cupboards, I note that Sora loves her vegetables and fruit. No sign of instant noodles either. Most of the products and ingredients are natural; so she has taken extra care to buy them. She makes everything from scratch.

I find flour, milk, eggs and butter. This will do, I tell myself.

Measuring the flour, I sift the white grains into a bowl. The eggs come next. I crack them both against the side of the bowl, letting the gooey liquid fall on top of the flour. I mix it up, then add in the estimated portions of milk and water. While heating the frying pan, I include the melted butter into the mix. And when the temperature is at the right level, I place a dash of butter into the middle, ensuring it is spread evenly. I spill a circle of the mix onto the middle of the pan, and I watch it slowly start to cook.

I used to make pancakes a lot when I was younger. They had been my father's favourite. And, to be honest, I don't remember the last time I've made pancakes since my father's passing. I could have made an easy breakfast of the muesli that I had found in the pantry, but pancakes felt like the best option this morning. It was the first thing that had popped in my mind when I eyed Sora's available ingredients.

After flipping the eighth pancake to the other side, I fill up the kettle and let it boil. While it boils, I proceed on the strenuous hunt for coffee. I'm dying for caffeine. After the night we've had, it's definitely required for me if I want to function today. I'm disappointed at the lack of roasted beans, but it makes sense when I come across a drawer of tea. And by tea, I'm not just talking about plain black tea or green tea. Her assortment is insane, ranging from flavours of creme brulee, smoky earl grey to even moroccan mint. Having no idea which tea to pick, I stick to the can of instant coffee that's barely visible, hiding in the corner behind the multiple boxes of teas.

Once the water has boiled, I pour it in the two mugs I had prepared earlier. As I lean in to take a sniff of the caffeine, soft footsteps wake me up from my daze.

I gulp when I see her in short shorts and an oversized shirt. There's always something hot about women in big shirts. It's a bloody turn on. It should be illegal at this time in the morning. Blood rushes to my cheeks when I see all the bite marks on her neck. I hadn't meant to be that rough on her, but I hadn't been able to stop it. I distinctly remember her cries for more, which had emboldened me to keep going.

Attempting to be as smooth as I can be, I grin at her to make things less awkward, "Morning."

"Yeah." She yawns. It's an adorable yawn. "You too."

I don't miss the way her eyes are freaking out at me being here. Even I'm astonished about what had happened. She was cute when she yawned, but it's cuter that she's trying to act all nonchalant towards me as she soundlessly sets up the table for breakfast. Nonchalant my ass.

Turning off the stove, I leave the last pancake on the pan, taking both mugs to the table. She's appreciative when I pass her the other mug of coffee over, noticing that she's not correcting me for tea as she immediately takes a sip. She must need strong caffeine as much as I do right now.

I bite back a smirk when she lets out a sigh. The last time she had sighed was right after she had climaxed and then languidly laid in my arms, after our final round.

Her eyes rakes over me, and her cheeks tinge pink, obviously recalling the dirty deeds we had done last night. "I thought you left…"

"Thought I'd make us some pancakes. Knew you wouldn't mind because I did hear your stomach grumble when I woke up. You are my new friend, after all." Good one, Yamato. Now she's going to think you're friend-zoning her.

I think I'm being way too casual about this because I had only wanted to alleviate the awkward vibes she's giving me. That, or either Sora's not a morning person, is terribly shy or she's not used to sleeping with just anybody. Since her shoulders are still tensed up, I add, "Besides, I couldn't leave until I saw that room dedicated to your teddy bear collection."

She narrows her eyes at me, unhappy that I had snooped around her place - which is reasonable, but it's still amusing seeing her irritated. At least this emotion is better her being awkward around me. We childishly argue for another minute until we get back to digging into the food.

Sora hasn't kicked me out, which is a good thing. I assume she wants it to be a one-night stand by the way her posture is stiff, and from the fact that she hasn't once smiled after waking up. It kinda hurts my ego, but who am I kidding? I knew there would be a more higher chance of her not sharing the same ideas as me. However, she doesn't seem to want to talk about us or about what happened. If that's what she wants, sure...but I don't want it. I'm the type of person that wants answers. I like to ponder things out. In this sort of situation straight answers and forwardness is what's really required here.

Unable to keep the quiet prolonged, I say, "It's between the two us, alright? None of our friends can find out."

"Not a single one of them," she agree instantaneously, confirming what I need to know.

Sora licks the syrup on her lips, and I feel like she's doing this intentionally because now I know I won't be able to kiss her again. It's a shame, really. I mask my disappointment and laugh. "Even though it was a mistake, and us acting like horny teenagers...I don't regret it though."

I'm giving her a chance to admit that maybe we _can_ continue this. Even if she mightn't be interested in me, if she lets me have another chance, I might still be able to win her over. I'm seriously too old for this. Wooing somebody at my age is tiring. And if she says no, so be it. I'll leave her alone.

"Same," she confesses bluntly. I wish she could speak more into it, but she ends it with a close-ended remark that we're on the same page. Which is bullshit, but what can I do? She's made her decision and I can't force myself on her to go on a date with me.

Unable to take the stress, she covers her face with her hands. Her face is red now. Yes. She must _really_ not be used to sleeping with random people.

That's what I mean...Sora's a different breed. She can be mischievous, yet innocent. She's the grey between black and white and because I can't figure her out, I'm drawn to her.

She then spreads her fingers out and she realises that I'm still looking at her. It's like the first time we met, with her being the deer under the headlights. That memory still makes me smile. Maybe she's thinking the same thing as I, as we both suddenly break into laughter.

Sometimes laughing is the only cure in this kind of situation. And, although we're laughing, I'm laughing at this bittersweet ending. I continue to watch Sora giggle. I don't know, but I'd be lying if I were to say I'm not bitter about how Sora's brushing this aside. Her giggling feels like she's mocking me, even though I know she has pure intentions to not imply this impression. It still is a blow to a man's pride, you know? Perhaps I had cast my hopes too high. Perhaps it's time for me to finally move on if I had actually considered Sora as a potential new love interest, after living in a dry spell for almost a decade.

Kaori's grasp around me...has she forgiven me? Is she letting me breathe again? Or maybe it's Sora who has reminded me that it's time to give love another chance?

Pulling on a forced smile, I gesture for her to finish her plate of pancakes. After all, pretending is what I'm good at.

* * *

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 **(a/n)** If you've read Bittersweet Catastrophe, you knew this was coming. It was kinda amusing writing from Yamato's POV the first time he slept with Sora. I wanted this chp of Lifelines out before I went back onto Bittersweet. I think the sex scene is more detailed in this chapter, and Yamato's really all over the shop here. I hope I made this chp believable from a guy's POV (because i'm obviously not a guy). I find I'm cursing/swearing a lot whenever I write in Yamato's POV too. Anyway, it's time for bed.

 _ **Ana Maria:**_ The thing about Yamato is that he usually puts his work before love. It's like he's forgotten how to love himself/how to fall in love again. Mainly due to Kaori and how never truly got over her passing. He used work as an excuse. He used everything as an excuse. There's more to him, but I feel like I'll give it away. Haha. Thanks for reading!

( _i'll reply to the other reviews later today/this week. thanks for reading!_ )

P.S. listen to Miyavi's 'secret' ;)


	14. chapter thirteen: like family

_our memories fade_

 _away with the sunset_

 _deny it, close my eyes_

 _but why won't you_

 _leave my head?_

 _leave me alone_

 _i'm falling apart_

.

( starry night - mamamoo )

* * *

 **.**

 **[LIFELINES]**

chapter thirteen: **l** ike **f** amily

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* * *

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Basket bag almost overflowing, I commute to the side of the store that I never tend to find myself gravitating to. There's a small section dedicated to loose leaf tea. I hadn't noticed it earlier, not even after the over a hundred times I'd frequent the quiet store. I would have never guessed that it had a tea selection, especially when this store is known for its coffee beans.

I'd been coming to this place for as long as I can remember. It's located in a quiet alleyway in Ochanomizu. It's quaint, holds decades of history, and its scent is a combination of caffeine and old books, with the former evidently being the most dominant scent. Not many people know of this small coffee roasting store. However, whenever customers had been drawn to it, the same customers had stayed and had become regular customers.

This could also be said about my mother, who had stumbled across the store on random when she had been exploring the area of her first workplace. She said the coffee beans had helped her cope, in her early days, when she was getting accustomed to living back in Japan. It reminded her of the period she'd live in France with my grandparents, where she had discovered her love for caffeine. It was a period way before Takeru and I had been born, also before she had met and married father.

Of course, because of mother's constant visits the coffee store, I had also gotten used to going to it from a young age. I've been here as long as I can remember. It's probably one of the only things I really _do_ praise my mother for, it's undoubtedly her good taste in coffee.

"Are you buying tea for yourself or for somebody else?"

I crack a simper at the old man. We both know it's rhetorical because he's known me since I was a kid. He has a receding hairline now, that he's masked with his brown bowler newsboy hat, wrinkles surrounding the corners of his smiling mouth, and his spectacles are dangerously sliding down the tip of his nose. Although decades older than I, his memory is sharp. He has a knacky thing of remembering everybody's tastes and preferences, like how he also knows that I'm no the type to go browsing for something when I already know what I want.

"Maybe something with an orange fragrance, Kazuki-san?" I suggest. I recall the vanilla scented hand wash had a touch of orange, the same scent that stained her hair. I never knew that the scent of the fruit could smell so appealing. However, it worked for her. It _works_ for her.

He uses his wooden cane to help him propel his knees downwards. I hold the walking stick from shaking as the old man hunts through the cupboards, where there's a hidden box of flavours that are not on public display. He hands me the box as I help him get up into a standing position.

Kazuki-san lets out a tired sigh, recovering from the strenuous movement. "There are probably only two in there. Orange Pekoe with a dash of Cinnamon, and Orange Blossom Oolong."

Using the cabinet, I rest the wooden box on one of its shelves, opening it and finding four tins. I unscrew the lid to the Orange Pekoe, wafting in the smell, before attempting the Orange Blossom. To be honest, it does nothing for me because I'm not a tea drinker. I don't know which one smells better over the other. I don't even know why I'm buying Sora some tea to begin with, especially when I don't know when I'll be seeing her next.

Tempted to put the tea back, Kazuki-san chuckles startles me.

"Yamato-kun, pick the Orange Blossom Oolong. If you want to impress a lady, Oolong tea also depicts a sense of maturity for its traditional flavour."

"Thanks Kazuki-san." I laugh, scooping the tin of the oolong and adding it on top of my basket of coffee beans. As Kazuki scans in my order he glances up at me. "I hope you introduce me to this fine lady one day."

I roll my eyes, tapping the brim of his hat. "I'll see you when I need a top up again."

"Of course you will, son."

Before I step back into the open, I put a black mouth mask over my face, while quickly placing my black sunglasses over my eyes. At my parked motorbike, I store the newly purchased items into the top box, and strap the helmet around my head, buckling it under my chin. The engine rumbles and soon my feet leave the ground.

The fresh air against my skin feels good. Being cooped in a stuffy studio all day is tiring. I managed to finish my studio run early today, which mean I had time to spare. It's rare that the sun has not set yet. Sometimes I forget how it's like to have sunlight on my skin because I'm always indoors working from early mornings to late nights. It's not a healthy lifestyle, but if I don't work hard enough, I'll regret it, I'll end up back in square one, when I had nothing.

I'm there in less than twenty. As I park my motorbike, I take off my leather gloves and grimace at how sweaty my hands are. It's not a cold day, but because I'm here, at the clinic. I'm jitterish. I don't wanna be here, but it's in my duty to. I have to.

Ever since Takashi's been admitted, I've come here less than a handful times. Usually with one of the other members in the band, but this time it's by myself. I'm tempted to leave...but I can't. Takashi is still family to me. He's still that older brother I looked up to, somebody who I had respected, and it's depressing only seeing a shadow of why he used to be.

After taking my ID, I'm allowed past security and am led to the meeting room. I don't want long enough because sure enough, soon later, the budges open and I gaze up to see the former lead guitarist of KOD.

His eyes aren't hazy. Not the typical haze I'm used to clouding his eyes for the past years the band was active, and even when we had separated. He had been a heavy user, and it's peculiar observing him semi-lucid.

There's more fat on his skin, more colour, and...more rage.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

I shouldn't be expecting anything less from him. He's developed a hate for me over the years. I'd be naive to think that I'd be in his good books. He hates that we have put him here. He wants to get out, he wants his latest hit...and we're not supplying it to him. He's taking it out by lashing out on us and, well, I'm an easy target considering I had come to check up on him alone.

"No real reason," I keep my voice cool. "I obviously wanted to see you."

"Really?" Takashi snorts at me. He sits on the opposite chair with me. There's a security guard that is perched on his side, either in case he tries to run, or in case he tries to attack me. "Why care about me now when you never gave a fuck about me."

"You don't to pity talk me, Takashi. You know how much you mean to us, to your band too. To us friends."

"Bullshit." Takashi sneers at me. "I thought you were all about having fun and getting shitfaced, ey Yamato? Didn't you tell me to let loose once in a while?"

I sigh, though vaguely remembering. It had had been a long time ago, but I wasn't going to pretend either. "Weed, sure...but you took it to a whole new level. I never got you onto the harder stuff. You wouldn't stop no matter how much we told you to not take anything else."

"Like it didn't stop you," he ridicules.

I growl. "I had control, Takashi. You...you're-"

"You're just feeling guilty, Yamato," he dives in, attacking me. "That's the only reason why you're here to see me. Because you left Kaori, she died. And you don't wanna leave me the _fuck_ alone because you're scared. Isn't that it?"

"Shut up." My voice is shaky.

I hate how he's throwing her name around like this. I hate how he's talking about it all like it's nothing. I hate how he just _knows_ which buttons to press to piss me off. And I...I don't want to talk about to him about Kaori, especially when he's like this. Bitter, menacing and acting like a darn bastard. Blame it on the drugs, on everything else...but Takashi is doing this intentionally to throw me off from my centre, to _really_ irritate the fuck out of me. And, shit, it's working.

"Get high on this. Don't cause any trouble to anybody else, or I swear I'll tell you grandmother how much you've screwed up." Holding my breath, I throw him the bag of coffee beans at him. Coffee had been our common interest, and he'd always loved the roasted beans I'd get from Ochanomizu.

Who knew that me seeing thing could take a turn and get so bitter? He hadn't been like this when I had last seen him.

He eggs me as he watches me leave. "Yeah, turn your back on me. That's what your good at, asshole."

The only reason why I am going is because if I don't, I'll lose my temper at him. I roll my eyes. One day he'll be despicable, other days barely rousable, other days withdrawn. Takashi's one crazy mess and I don't know if he'll ever end up being the same person I had known when I had met him. It's bittersweet.

Hell, it's fucked. That's what it is.

Thinking of today's visit, as I exit the clinic, makes me grind my teeth. How long can we all endure Takashi's behaviour? Will he ever improve? Maybe I should lay off a week or two because if I walk back into the clinic and have him acting like a jackass to me, I might end up punching him out or storming off again. I want him to be better; to get better, but from today I know it'll be a long process...and it darn right hurts.

He had been right about few things. If it hadn't been for me, I wouldn't have let him experiment with drugs. I had wanted Takashi to have fun. I hadn't thought about the repercussions, not when I had been a stupid teen and consistently, heavily intoxicated. But I can't blame that on my idiocy or drunken state either. I did this to him, just exactly how I had done Kaori wrong…

"Oi. Yamato?"

Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, I notice my boss leaning back onto my motorbike in the car-park. It's been a while since I've seen him outside of the office, in semi-broad daylight (considering the sun is setting right now). I shouldn't be surprised that he's here. Like I've said before, Takashi has always been one of Seiji's favourites because, once upon a time, he had been the model son, proper and cooperative. And now everything's reversed and gone haywire, Seiji seems just as lost as me.

"He's in a horrid mood right if right now, Seiji-sama. See him at your own risk and don't tell me that I didn't warn you."

"Is it because the two of you had a brotherly quarrel?"

I tuck my hands into my pockets, sending him a side glance, "What do you think?"

Perhaps I've known the old man too long, to know his tendencies. How there's a stray hair that's out of place, the bottom of shirt isn't completely tucked into his pants and how sunken his eyes are. Takashi's state has taken a toll on all of us, and it hasn't been completely missed by Seiji either.

"You haven't been going to the sessions," he states, diverting the topic. Despite being busy, trust Seiji-sama to have enough time to snoop around. He must have found out that I had been ignoring Makoto-sensei's messages.

"There's been enough of my mind. I don't have the time," I say. "I promise I'll be a good little boy and obey your command once everything smooths over."

"When will you ever show respect to your elders?" Seiji frowns. "You can stop your irritating satire now."

"Since when am I ever sarcastic?" I query, sighing upwards as I crane my neck to look at the sky. There are no stars yet, and even if they're there I won't be able to catch them because of the city lights. I'd kill to be back with my grandparents at their ryokan right now. That's the problem whenever you go on mini escapes or holidays, you yearn to go back as soon as you've left.

Seiji doesn't move from in front of my motorbike, forehead creasing. "You know I'm here if you need to talk. You've been through the most out of all of us, kid. You always try to carry too many things on your shoulders."

"Takashi's been through the most."

"And you have had your own things going on too. You know you that you can take more leave if you need-"

"I'm good," I reply. If anything, working has been my survival method, my constant steady. If work is taken away from me, I don't know if I can function properly. I needed it because it was my form of stability, even though I knew relying on work like this is - in fact - also unstable.

He doesn't argue with me because if he does, we'll be at the car-park till dawn. His purpose here is to visit Takashi, he could annoy me later. He tells me this, and I laugh at him as I wave him off.

Jun calls on my handsfree as I drive back home, asking how Takashi is. She's just about to start her shift, but she's the last person I had texted, which is why she knows about me dropping past the clinic. I fill her in on Takashi and how we clashed, and she lectures me for bickering with him.

She ends the phone call by telling me to rest. I easily oblige, for once not putting up an argument with her. Sleep comes in easy as my body sinks onto the mattress, blankets warming me up as I drown into a slumber.

" _Hey...hey Yamato-chan_? _That's your name isn't it?"_

 _Mmh?_ I turn my head, not knowing where to look or where to focus. I narrow my eyes. Everything is blurry. The voice seems so distant, yet so close. It talks again to me. "Did you want to try it? You've been hovering by the door for a while, humming along...why don't give it a go?"

"Try what?" I ask out loud, as I hear the acoustic playing of guitar surround me. Musical notes gliding in the air, spinning, making me dizzy and feel light-hearted. It's beautiful, talented playing. Music that, even if I took years to learn, I would never master like how fluid-like the guitarist played.

"Here."

There's a guitar. Well, I think it's a guitar that's resting on my lap. It definitely feels like. The strings, the carefully sandpapered, polished wood, its curvy body. It's like my father's old bass guitar, the one in the spare room that has been layered in dust. The guitar, what I assume it to be, feels nice, resting helplessly there on my lap, wanting, wishing to be played.

"I can teach you if you want?"

"Really?" I perk up.

A hand on my shoulder, encouraging day after day. Longer than the soccer practices, as they'd fade away from outside, as we practice continuously until the sun sets and my fingers are numb, and sometimes bleeding. "You're doing really well, Yamato-chan."

My mouth is tired from grinning. "Thanks Taka-sempai."

He chuckles, I laugh.

Laughter turns to giggles.

I bury my face into her hair, and she croons, softly moaning.

We're at hers. Velvet blankets. She always had a thing for velvet. She always smelled of paint. And her piercing eyes were always tantalising, body supple and lips glossed a deep cherry.

"Yes, I really love you," her voice whispers.

My heart pitter-patters, and I glimpse raindrops falling down from the window. Rainy days always are nice for indoors. They're always nice when she's in my arms. We liked watching the rainfall together because there's something intriguing and captivating about something that could also be portrayed as sad.

Her hair is blank ink, cascading, turning, swirling into a pastel orange. No. A dark red. It's warm. She's warm. Her laughter resonates, sometimes confused, but always kind. A kindness that I may have lost a long time ago.

"Calm. You make me feel calm. Thank you." I murmur into the whiteness, into the mist. You make me feel safe, I say to myself. The taste of caffeine changes to tea.

She makes me forget. She makes me remember that there's still more to life than what's been smothered by the past, by what has been turned to ash. There's hope. A new life to discover. A new me. I'm thankful for it, but am I? Am I ready for it? Do I deserve it?

I kiss her on the forehead. Her honey-coloured eyes turn a dark brown.

"Who is she?"

Her eyes brows furrowed, voice hurt as her short, auburn hair transits into a long, midnight black. "Have you forgotten about me, Yamato?"

"I'd never."

"Then why did you betray me?" Her voice is fragile, like glass. A voice, a person you'd always want to protect. Somebody you'd _have_ to protect.

My jaw tenses, fear shattering through me. "No. Don't jump Kaori. Please, I-"

" _Yamato?_ "

No.

If I answer, you won't leave me alone. Leave me alone. Disappear.

"Yamato?"

A buzzing. It sounds irritating. Like a bee, or insect curing in my ears. It keeps going, persisting until the buzzing creates a tone that sounds vaguely like my phone. Is it my phone?

" _Yamato?"_

Tightly squeezing my eyes shut, I open them. Sure enough, my phone's still in my hand. I had been holding it before I had fallen asleep. It keeps vibrating. My eyes are watery. I'm uncertain whether it's from the dream, or from waking up. My heart is still pounding so fast, that I feel the urge the throw up.

"Hello?" I answer the call nevertheless.

"Onii-san, Hikari's at the door. Why are you ignoring her?"

"Who? What?" I'm barely managing to make sense of everything.

My mind's a jumbled mess. Isn't it funny the more you avoid things, they somehow manage to creep their way back into your mind? It's really thrown me around, seeing the spitting young version of Takashi. Before everything happened. And Kaori, that was another story on its own…

" _Yamato-kun_?"

I swear, nobody addresses me properly these days. Enough getting the 'kun' from my elders, but when it's your sister-in-law calling you this way, it's kinda like a jab to your ego. I grumble loudly, "Be there in a min, Hikari-chan!"

My toes worm into my pair of straw slippers as I drag myself to the front door of my apartment. Takeru's still on the phone. I almost get startled when he begins speaking again, "Are you deaf? What will you do without us? What if there was a fire?"

"What if you'd just shut up?" I snarl back.

"You're such a grown-up kid."

"Takeru," I hiss at the pest. "Have you tried looking in the mirror?"

I open the door. As predicted, Hikari's there. It takes me a while to process what, in actual fuck, is going on.

Hikari says to me, "Please?"

She's doing a pose that makes me take a second look at her. Her hands are pressed together, eyes pleading as she unblinkingly stares at me. She separates her hands before clapping them back together, like she's at a shrine, praying.

Why now? Why the fuck is she praying to me? I'm no fucking God. If I'm to be something, I'd be the damn devil incarnate.

"Takeru, I think your wife has lost it. Take her back."

The receiving end it cut off. The bastard has hung up. I scratch my head, trying to figure out what Hikari praying has got to do with me.

Then I hear a moan.

Stepping forward, I look behind my sister-in-law and note my best friend, holding himself on the wall behind the door. By how he's doing a shit job at holding himself up, it's darn obvious that Taichi's drunk again. _Fucking_ hell. It doesn't end there. Hikari thrusts her brother into my apartment. I swear in disbelief as she shuts the door closed to my own home.

No wonder my brother and Taichi's sister make a great dynamic duo. The devils feed off each other and are professionals at manipulation. The true Japanese Bonnie and Clyde. Whenever they are paired together, they're smarter and easily triumph over Taichi and I. We suck when we're against them, and even more now when it's technically two versus one (considering Taichi is literally out by default).

"Sorry Yamato!" Hikari yells at me from the other side of the door.

"You're not sorry," I snap back at her. Darn it. When would everybody stop using my place like their own?

"Just do Takeru and me a favour? He's your best friend. You don't have children. Do you know how hard it is to have children and care for _another_ big baby?" Hikari reasons out. "Anyway, I gotta go!"

Of course she does. I exhale, talking to myself, "I still don't approve of this."

I glance at Taichi who's making himself towards the living area. He bumps into a shelf, which causes a few picture frames to fall as he finally makes it to the couch.

My brother and his wife do have a point, they have their own family to focus on. Koushiro is interstate at a conference for the next two days. Daisuke will probably encourage Taichi to drink more. I'm the best option and despite not even wanting to be, I don't have a choice. This break-up between Mimi and him must be taking a toll on my poor, dear, furbull-head of a friend. I probably should check with Miyako if she has an idea whether Taichi and Mimi's little quarrel will end soon. It's affecting all our lives, really.

This is probably why it would never be idea to get in too deep with Sora. Probably.

Yeah, get a grip, Yamato. She clearly confirmed she only wants it to be a one-off thing. No strings attached. I'm meant to forget about what happened between us. Like hell I will. I bloody _bought_ her tea, and if she's merging in my dreams with Kaori...God, I'm fucked.

My apartment already smells of booze. Just _how_ much has Taichi had to drink? I wander towards my best friend who is sprawled on the couch, tossing a blanket over his sorry figure.

As I head towards the photo frames he had knocked over, I hear him mumble in his heavily intoxicated state, "Why is love hard, Yamato?"

I re-adjust the fallen photo frame back into a standing position, gazing at the four faces smiling at me. It's like a dream, a false reality that's the captured image of Takeru and myself when I were kids, mother and my deceased father before they had divorced. It had been our last photo together, like we had been a family. A memory that love is not constant, that it can easily evaporate into thin air.

"I don't know why either, Yagami," I truthfully reply.

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 **(a/n)** This chapter is really a mix of jellybeans. His emotions are all over the place, and I hope it's well portrayed that way here. I was close to rewriting this chapter, but then it wouldn't be true to the happenings of this story. And, to think, he hasn't even reached breaking point yet. Oh, this story is going to become super messy xD Haha. Thanks for reading!

 _ **Missy-May:**_ Haha. Yes. You would have probably read Bittersweet Catastrophe, whereas this story is from Yamato's POV. It's the parallel story, scenes that I couldn't explore from Sora's POV. Thanks for reading!

 ** _Dikus:_ **I also kinda interpreted Yamato differently, until I started writing his side of the story. There's much more to flesh out here. Haha. But yeah, he was more aware of how his feelings/thoughts in regards to Sora, than she was in-tune with him. xD Glad you enjoyed it the previosu chp :)

 _ **Ana Maria:**_ It's fun/hard exploring Yamato's character in this story, but yeah...I am enjoying the light-heartedness of Yamato slowly developing feelings for Sora. Thanks for reading :)

 _(will reply to the rest of the reviews later & hopefully edit this)_


	15. chapter fourteen: question marks

_should i call you or not? should i just text?_

 _is it too late? will she already be sleeping?_

 _the night feels especially long today_

 _i type in the text, then fix it, then erase it_

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( question mark - primary ft. choiza & zion. t )

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**SMUT ALERT**

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 **[LIFELINES]**

chapter fourteen: **q** uestion **m** arks

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**SMUT ALERT**

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Whenever you're continuously with a person whose mood is low, it's contagious.

Some people learn tactics to find ways to leave the person, and ways to not constantly breathe in the suffocating air that surrounds them. Some people are less perceptive whenever dealing with a particular person, personality so strong enough to not let them beat their mood down. Unfortunately, for me, I'm like a sponge because whenever negativity sticks its nose into my life, I can't help but also get sucked into its hellish condition, which then influences my behaviour.

I usually _do_ manage to discover techniques to climb out of sombre situations by taking myself out of the equation. Ignoring what happens. Being passive. Not getting involved. Because, I find that from experience, whenever you get involved in certain situations they tend to bite you in the ass. Maybe I'm just more sensitive than other people because whenever I'm involved with anything, or anyone, a part of me is always determined to make it work - even if there may be nothing to work with in the first place. And when things don't go my way, I'm left feeling bitter.

Bitter.

That's the best way to explain my current circumstance.

Work's had me on edge, Takashi is on my mind, Kaori haunts my little sleep and now Taichi's wormed himself into my house life. All of the former, it's not unusual...but adding factor Taichi to my lifestyle is not good. Yes, as a friend he's great, but now when he's like this. Not when he's more depressed than I am (a rarity considering I've earned the title as the moody one), not when he's consistently in my space. Which leads me to mentioning what I said earlier - whenever somebody's mood is low, it's contagious. In this particular matter, I'm pointing at Taichi.

Taichi's personality is a strong one. He exudes a fiery aura, typically positive, inviting, bold, loud, friendly, and - at times - humorous (don't tell him I told you that because it'll add to his toppling ego). The thing about Taichi is that whenever he's in the room, all attention falls onto him. He doesn't ask for it. It's just him being, well, _him_. So now that his mood is in down in the dumps, it's been affecting the people he interacts with - _especially_ me because he's in my living space. And, _boy_ , is it hard having him here. I want to kick him out. Too bad he happens to be my best friend. Damn it.

"Can you add a cappuccino to that?" Koushiro's voice startles me as I look up from the coffee maker. I've been standing here for a while, mulling over my Taichi dilemma. I blink. "How about something else? I'm fresh out of chocolate flakes."

"A latte then."

"Sure," I say, turning back to my task as I start to brew his coffee, along with my own long black.

I note the grey slippers standing besides me, as I continue to brew some coffee for the both of us. I would have thought Kou would have left the kitchen section, but something is triggering him to stay. Then again, sitting besides Taichi isn't all that welcoming right now.

Clearing my throat, I question, "What's the matter? Did you want to have a turn at babysitting the big baby?"

"Yamato, I didn't know he was this bad," Koushiro scolds me. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? I could have left my business conference earlier to help you out."

"It's been fine."

Koushiro's lips quirk downwards, but he doesn't reply to me. He knows enough not to push on this. Right now it isn't about arguing with me, but getting Taichi on the right track. Fixing him, or the situation that's landed him like this, which means we need Mimi in the picture. Taichi's done already a week of wallowing, now it's time to get him back up on his feet.

Life would prove to be easier if we could actually _contact_ Mimi. The woman has been MIA and is refusing to answer any of our calls. Hikari and Miyako hasn't been able to properly speak to her either, from what I've heard from Takeru. And Sora, well…

"You could try calling Sora? She's good at talking sense into Taichi whenever I fail," Koushiro proposes. He's serious about asking Sora to partake in this wreck, but there's also a flicker of amusement gleaming in his eyes. His amusement is confirmed when he says, "After all, you _did_ ask for her number the other day."

I almost _intentionally_ drop his coffee when I pass it over to him. He chuckles at me, whistling as he disappears from the kitchen before I can give him a decent, hard glare.

He's not making it up. I _had_ asked for Sora's number when I had one too many drinks with Taichi las night. I found myself ringing Koushiro, asking him why he couldn't share the burden of caring for Taichi with me. That, and well, for Sora's number. My request had come out by accident, or maybe it had been on my mind for a while.

Yes, we had slept together, and yes, I know that she doesn't want anything more from it. Even though it's mainly her wish, it doesn't mean I don't completely agree with her...not when I kinda may _possibly_ like her. Maybe the thought of her made me feel at ease. Amongst Taichi's constant complaining and sombreness, I had been drunk, sick of Taichi's moping, and had desperately wanted to think of something that didn't make me frown.

Sora was the first person to come to mind, which makes sense why I had asked Kou for her number. She didn't make me frown; the thought of her had made me laugh. And, truthfully, she's the only person that has that type of effect on me these days. I had been mulling over the past two days whether to ask her to 'hang out', but every time I'd get the phone in my hand, I would freeze and, well, get guilty because I know that I should be - in fact - keeping a close eye on Taichi and not brooding over her. I thought that maybe sex with her would have ended this irritating feeling, but it had quietly and steadily fuelled my desire to want to know her more.

In the living room, I see the back of my friends' heads both facing the TV monitor. I tiredly smile to myself. I'm thankful Koushiro's here. It's been a drainer manhandling Taichi for the past week. Koushiro had actually gone to the effort of bringing his old gaming consoles over. And although Taichi isn't completely with it, Kou's managed to distract Taichi from thinking about Mimi, by focusing on the game. Out of all games, it seems they're playing a soccer one. Trust Taichi to pick a soccer game. When he's not really playing soccer; he picks soccer to game on.

Koushiro competes against him, but I really wouldn't call it competing. If Koushiro was to get serious, I know he'd take Taichi down in a second. As well as being a computer, Koushiro is a gaming genius. Playing against him is like versing a prodigy; AKA you're guaranteed to lose. However, not today. Koushiro is letting Taichi win.

A phone rings. It vibrates against the coffee table that's in front of the TV monitor. Multi-tasking, Koushiro peers over his gaming control, glimpsing the name on his phone. "Oh," he says before leaning back onto the sofa, continuing to play the game.

"Aren't you going to answer that?" I mumble.

He specifically asks me, "Can you answer it for me?"

I take a step towards the coffee table, picking up the call and immediately, processing the name that had flashed on its screen, and scowling at my late realisation. Koushiro is one sly bastard.

It's too late now, so I speak anyway, "Sora?"

She doesn't even notice that it's me talking to her on the phone since she immediately dives into the heart of the matter. "Please tell me Tai's with you, Kou, because I need to desperately kick that asshole in the balls!"

I grimace at her words. She's sounding pretty vicious right now. I wonder why she's peeved and she still thinks that it's Koushiro who picked up her call. Do I even sound like Koushiro?

"Yeah, he's with us."

My reply makes her then realise that she's been speaking to the wrong person all along, but instead of clarifying that it's really me, she quips back impatiently, "What are you? A paging service?"

She goes on further that I'm always picking up phones that don't belong to me, which is kinda true. I do see her argument considering I do answer my brother's home's phone from time to time whenever I babysit his children.

Sora rampages on a tangent about Taichi and - call me an ass - but it feels good that somebody else is bitching about him too. Sora seems to have had enough. The same can be said about me. Our best friends really are irritating people. And although I'm just as annoyed as she is, I tell her to sooth her.

"Takenouchi, calm down. Maybe it's best if we leave Mimi and Taichi alone for now. Perhaps they need their own space? Let them solve their problems themselves. We can't _always_ be there to solve their problems-"

"-even with Mimi losing it and running off to Okinawa?" She breaks in mid-sentence.

My stomach drops. _Oh shit…_

"No way," I reply in a dull tone, clearly unimpressed.

I just _wish_ Sora didn't have to tell me that. Mimi's flown to Okinawa? She _literally_ hopped onto a plane to fly to a completely different island? For Christ's sake! Whenever will things in my life be simple? Is that too hard to ask? Goddamnit.

She tells me she's going to come over, which I don't mind...if my place isn't in a hideous state. As soon as she hangs up, I'm tidying up slightly. Koushiro sends me a look, distracted by my sudden movements to clean up, I gaze back at him and send him a shrug. The most casual shrug I can. He smirks. Once again, the darn sly bastard. Koushiro can be conniving when he has to be.

Wait a minute. Why am I tidying up? Sora's not here to hang around, she's on a mission to fix Taichi. And this is great news! Sora's involvement is going to boost the situation of assisting me evacuate Taichi from my apartment, and if evacuation holds priority, I need to have another plan up my sleeve…

 _Okinawa..._ she says? I leap onto my desk, logging in and accessing the JAL website. I decide that booking a ticket tonight is better than tomorrow, because I know how Taichi's brain ticks. If I don't book it spontaneously or the day after, it will give him time to mull about it and bail - whereas, if I throw this at him, he's less likely to retaliate because Koushiro, Sora and I will _force_ him to go.

After the site accepts my credit card details, I push myself away from the desk and sniff at the pits of hoodie that's draped over my chair. It doesn't stink, so I pull it over, stuffing a lighter and half-empty box of cigarettes into its pocket.

I go over to the sofa and tap Kou on the shoulder. "Hey, I'm going out for a light."

Koushiro suggests, "Your balcony?"

"I've run out," I lie.

When his attention focuses back on the game, I'm already out of my place and taking the lifts down. My heart is racing. Sora's coming over. I have to see her before the guys do. I look like a train-wreck, but whatever. She's here to see Taichi, not to see me. I need to keep that in mind, and maybe it's a good thing to no longer think about her because I don't want to have to add her to all the stuff that's been going on lately.

I exhale, watching as I exert a ring of smoke into the air.

I hate that I'm smoking again. It's hard to get the smell off your clothes, and because it's on your clothes, it makes you want to smoke again. At least I can control myself, unlike father who was a darn chimney. It's calming. People do yoga, meditate...but smoking has been my form to chill out when my stress levels are high up there. Everybody lectures you for it, saying its bad for you. Don't you think smokers already know that? There's a reason why the word 'addiction' exists. It's not like people _choose_ to get addicted; people just happen to make the wrong decisions. The wrong decisions that can impact a person for the worst. There never is going to be a simple right or wrong.

Sora arrives in a taxi. I'm anxiously pacing back and forth when I spot her. Even in a long, pale beige coat, and short-heeled work shoes, she looks good. Her long legs climb out of the taxi and I can't help but look at her.

I had been worried she wouldn't be able to recall where I lived, but despite being intoxicated during that time, she's managed to remember my address.

However, as we're about to head up to my apartment, I make sure to get it out of my system. I observe her, eyes fixed, "But we're pretending nothing happened?"

"Nothing happened."

At least I tried. She's firm about it, and I'm not going to push further into this if she doesn't want to have anything to do with me. It's a bit of a blow to the ego, but we're both thirty now. There's no point of us playing games if we're not going to get anything out of it. Although, it doesn't stop me from smirking at her whenever I can. I can pretend nothing went on between us, but that doesn't mean I need to stop flirting. It's cute watching Sora get flustered.

Her face scrunches up in disapproval when I stomp my cigarette out. I have a go at her because even though she's not commenting on my smoking, she's an open book about the matter. Perhaps I'm a bit edgy because I'm barking up the wrong tree, but lately everything is making so darn irritable. I give her the heads up about Taichi before we enter my apartment.

As soon as I unlock the door, she charges in and screeches, "TAICHI!"

Here we go.

I feel like dusting my hands and letting Sora do all the work. She's a spitfire. Why haven't we gotten Sora involved earlier?

Koushiro reacts first, turning around with furrowed eyebrows. "Sora? How do you know where Yamato lives? In fact, how did you get here-"

When she replies via taxi, Koushiro - the darn genius - interjects, "Funny because I only gave Yamato your phone number yesterday."

She sends me a look and I return a sheepish grin back. Before Koushiro can investigate further into the matter, she demands that we turn off the game, and it's kinda hot when she strides over to the couch and threatens Taichi with the remote control. Taichi still keeps playing the game though.

"TAICHI!"

I can't contain my glee as she turns off the monitor, pushing Taichi back onto the sofa. She's about to land a hard slap on Taichi's cheek, but to my disappointment, Koushiro holds her wrist back to prevent her from doing so. "Fix it, Yagami!"

"Fix what?" Taichi finally speaks. It's odd because I swear I haven't heard him speak for ages, asides from the occasional grunt. Sora's _actually_ getting him to talk. She really is a miracle worker.

However, his expression plummets when we fill him on in the news that Mimi is Okinawa. Under his breath, he murmurs that if that's what Mimi wanted, then it's good for her. He puts the blame on Mimi, saying it's her that said that they take a break and that he refused to go ahead with it.

Sora replies the same very words I'm about to say, "And you believe her? Mimi breathes melodrama. She's your girlfriend. Don't you already know that she likes lying to get you to react to what she says?"

"I'm tired of it," Taichi sighs.

"Aren't we all?" That's Koushiro. I almost burst out in laughter, but hold myself back when I catch Sora send him a withering look.

I then give Taichi another one of my spiels. To sum it up, I end it with muttering, "...get your shit together, man."

Sora does the nicer approach, while sending a withering look at my way now. She places her hand on Taichi. It's ironic how gentle she has become within the span of minutes. Before she had charged up to Taichi, promising war, but now she's being kind to him. I don't get women. I really don't.

Somehow, in a nice way, she tells Taichi that he's been putting his job over Mimi. If I had told him that, he would have gutted me or ignored me..but not with Sora. He's soaking in her words like he's never heard them before from any of us boys. When she questions whether Taichi would break up with Mimi, he replies, "I...I couldn't do that."

"Then?" I prod him.

"No...you're right...I'm an idiot! You're a genius, Sora!"

Taichi's eyes light up. The gloomy expression shatters for a second, as if he's reached the point of enlightenment. He kisses Sora on the cheek. She rebuts his cheek with a playful scowl and sarcasm, sticking her tongue out at him. Taichi stands up, "I-I need to go!"

Koushiro asks, bemused, "Where to?"

When Taichi replies 'Okinawa' to Koushiro, he goes on a tangent about booking tickets until I interrupt him. "I've already booked them."

It's Sora and Koushiro's turn to act surprised. "What? How?"

Sora gazes at me with a baffled expression. I smirk back at her. When you've been friends with Taichi long enough, you can predict his train of thought. In this scenario, I'm a step ahead because I really _want_ him to get the fuck out of my house.

They say the best friends are the meanest ones, right?

Half an hour later, they're all piling out of my apartment (thank _fucking_ God). Taichi's already bolted out, complaining for Koushiro to hurry, but Koushiro makes sure to take his time.

Instead, Koushiro raises an eyebrow at me as he rolls Taichi's luggage - well, technically my luggage - out of the apartment, his gaze displaying that he's caught on to how I had designated him as Taichi's chauffeur to the airport. Hey, I know I'm sneaky for scheming it, but Kou needs to carry the burden too. It's fair, especially if I've dealt with Taichi for a week.

As he slides out, Koushiro does something that makes my stomach coil. To anyone, Koushiro appears to be angelic, but deep down he _is_ a sly bastard. Seeing that he's held my gaze, Koushiro's eyes shift over to Sora who is in the process of putting her shoes on. Before I look back at him, he's closed the door.

I take the bait because I'm too curious, too interested, about Sora for my own good.

"Stay for dinner. I make a mean curry rice."

She folds her arms in a tentative pose, staring at me, speculating. From the way she's holding her arms against her chest, her coat becomes more taut as it's pulled across her body, showing off her nice curves. My eyes run past her plump lips to her fiery eyes.

"Really? Is this going to be a pattern? After every time disaster strikes, will you treat me to food?"

 _Why not?_ I don't say that out loud. I make an excuse, saying that it's my way of thanks for kicking Taichi out of my apartment.

The ball's in her court now. She can either stay or leave. And if she decides to leave, this will be the final answer that I'll take from her. I won't chase her anymore. Her answer leaves me stunned.

"Fine." She takes off her shoes, long legs stepping past me as she floats back into my apartment.

I pinch the bridge of nose. _Fuck._

While she helps herself to flick through the channels on my couch, I prepare dinner, reheating the leftover curry I had made from last night. I warn her about it, and she doesn't seem to mind. She rises from the couch, joining me in the kitchen and setting up the table.

She takes a mouthful of the curry rice and she giggles, eyes sparkling as she studies me from across the table in a new light. "You make a better housewife than a musician. Have you ever considered changing your career?"

"Like you've listened to the songs I've ever composed." I snort, when I see the expression on her face, knowing that my guess is most likely true.

She stutters, "I have-"

"Name one," I say.

She pauses and gives me a cheeky smile. "Er...I can't think of one on the spot."

I chuckle at her. She already gave herself away just then, and from her reaction I hadn't expected her to know one of my songs. Somehow it makes me want to compose better songs, songs that are broad and not specified to one genre, so that more people can be exposed to my music. That had been my aim when KOD had disbanded, now that I think about it.

For some reason she takes off her coat. When I think about it, it is quite muggy in my apartment and although she's been her for almost an hour, she hadn't taken it off.

I then realise why she hasn't. My eyes widen as I almost choke on the rice that's going down my throat. Water. Water...I need water! I snatch a glass and quickly down it.

Recovering, I murmur, "I...I didn't know you were into cosplaying. Is it your secret fetish?"

"Cosplaying?" she queries, uncertain what I'm referring to.

Her cheeks darken when she realises what I'm referring to, gazing down at the outfit that - I can tell - she hates being in. Sora's dressed in a frilly maid outfit. Something that I would have _never_ thought I'd see somebody like her in. From the previous times I've seen her, I've noted she is not the type to over-dress, keeping it casual, yet stylish. However, her dressing in a _maid_ outfit really is something else. It's not even my kink, but _damn_ does she look good.

"No!" She panics, curry rice forgotten. "It was for work!"

Sora further explains that it was to gain more customers. I tease her more for it, questioning her what _type_ of customers. She's already shrugging back her coat on, sending death glares at my direction. I'm amused. No matter if she's embarrassed, furious or laughing...her little expressions get to me.

"And you look good in it," I admit, scratching the back of my head. I am telling the truth, and it throws her off. She narrows her eyes at me. "Why'd you ask Koushiro for my number?"

"We're friends, aren't we?" I quip back.

The word 'friends' sounds stiff on my lips. I don't like the sound out of it, but what else are we? What else _can_ we be?

Sora brings up Koushiro and how we have to be careful. She's not completely dismissing this, yet she's not completely turning me down either. Then she brings up Jun again, which is getting old. I really don't know what she wants and I don't know how to read her. Yet, whatever she's willing to give me, I'll take it. I just want to be spend time with her, even if it's for dinner, or being buried under sheets. And, as frustrating as she is for not making it clear, it's just as frustrating how much I want to kiss her right now.

And then she _has_ to cut me off. She dabs the edges of her mouth with a serviette, closing our unfinished conversation by saying, "I'd better go. With work tomorrow and all-"

"Sure," I reply. I kick the back of my leg for it. During moments like these, I wish I'm smoother with words in real life, than in lyric form.

She mutters that she can see herself out. I follow her anyway. Sora pivots around, hesitant as I am watching her go. Her eyes are conflicted as she closes the space between us and give me a parting hug. She feels just right here, in my arms. As she exhales out, her breath tickles my neck. On her part, it's the wrong move to do because now I don't want to let her to slip out of my arms.

I lower my head down, kissing her on the cheek. We're not friends right now. She knows I want more from this. I'm looking at her, daring for her to break the hold. She doesn't. To my surprise, her hands loop around my neck, pulling me further down to her level. She tiptoes as our lips crash against each other. I let out a calm sigh when we finally kiss. Holding her body closer, my fingers thread through her hair. She tugs at my hoodie, taking it off. Her hands dig under my shirt and I let out a groan.

"You're killing me, Sora," I whisper.

She kisses my collarbone, eyes mischievous. " _Good_."

Her response turns me on more, as I almost rip her coat off. I smile at her in her cute maid outfit. She's about to undo the corset, but I stop her. "I actually like you in it."

"I don't," she rolls her eyes, but her lips are curved upwards.

"Maybe let's play a game and see how long we can keep it on?" I push her against the wall, running my fingers down up and down her legs.

She pushes back, taking my hand as she leads me back to the couch. Tennis is on. She must have left it on the sports channel while I had been heating up dinner. She's about to turn it off, but I shake my head. I grab the remote from her, switching off the screen, turning on the playlist to hard, instrumental bass guitar.

The music throbs against the speakers, drowning us into the bass sounds. I lay her down onto the couch, looming over her as she gazes up at me with pretty, teasing eyes. She lifts off my shirt and smirks when her hands touch my torso. A shiver runs up my spine, her fingers are like static against my sensitive skin. Holding back a moan, I pin her down with both of my hands. My head is between her breasts, sucking and biting. Her pelvis thrusts upwards against mine as my hand goes between her legs. Her toes curl, her breathing is ragged and hot as she begins to slowly tremble in ecstasy.

"Darn it, Yamato. Get me out of this," she cries in desperation.

I drawl, "Slow down, let's enjoy this."

"Shut up." She hits me on the shin. I laugh.

I strip her out of the maid outfit and soon we've switched position. It's now she who is straddling over me. Her breasts are against my bare chest, rubbing against me and I bite down on my lip. She'll end me. She really will.

When I slowly enter her, she grimaces, eyes tightly shut. We connect and she lets out a beautiful cry as she clenches around me. Her hair is a vivid red, dancing with each and every movement as she rides me. I hold onto her as her gasps escalate.

We both reach our peak, our heavy moans are muted by the sound of the loud, steady bass.

* * *

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 **(a/n)** So…you knew this was coming if you've read Bittersweet Catastrophe. Sorry, a bit rusty on this smut scene. I thought I'd add it to this version because it wasn't written 'in detail' in Bittersweet. I'm trying to spread the scenes out evenly between the two stories. Haha. I've always wanted to write a Sorato with them sleeping together with bass in the background (that's just my perverted mind speaking).

Anyway, I hope you've thoroughly enjoyed this chapter xD


	16. chapter fifteen: distractions

_nothing's really different_  
 _it's the same air_  
 _it's the same bed_  
 _looking at the same ceiling_  
 _why do I feel so empty_  
 _for no reason at all_

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d (half moon) - dean ft. gaeko

* * *

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 **[LIFELINES]**

chapter fifteen: **d** istractions

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* * *

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My brother _really_ knows how to push my buttons. He's one of the few who can, and he's a darn master at it. I watch him prowl through my apartment like a hawk, investigating each and every detail he can find to humiliate me. He hasn't stopped snooping around after discovering Sora's maid outfit _and_ lingerie. The darn mood wrecker.

Call me a fool, but it was nice waking up to Sora. Her body languid, relaxed under the sheets when I had left her. All I wanted to do was crawl back under the sheets and kiss her, but Takeru just _had_ to go and ruin everything.

"Been smoking too, huh?" I try not to make a face when Takeru studies the overflowing ashtray of stubs. The sight of it prompts him to rattle on to me, "This is why I'm checking on you because you're always in the worst state of mind this time of year."

Right. Takeru didn't really seem to care about how I was doing when he had dumped Taichi at my doorstep. He had unintentionally made my mood worse when he had.

"Takeru...can you stop?" I grit out.

As much as I already dislike talking about it, I don't particularly want Sora to be listening into our conversation. Although she's still in bed, I know how the voices can travel in my apartment, and how sounds can still be heard from the living room to my bedroom.

My comment only influences him to scold me further, "Hasn't the old man taught you anything? I know you're only doing it because of the death anniversary, but giving your tributes to his passing by smoking isn't the way to do it either!"

I protect back, "I'm not smoking my life away. It's only when I'm stressed out and-"

"Yes, of course. You didn't come to the cemetery yesterday," Takeru cuts me off, accusingly. "Mother and I were waiting for you. You forget that you're not the only one suffering here. Dad was important to all of us, and we're here to listen to if you need us to, Yamato."

I feel like an asshole for saying it, but I do anyway, "You didn't know dad as well as I did, Takeru. And mother, she _left_ him. Tell me why would I want to talk to _her_ about it?"

We bicker further like any other pair of siblings would. Only we're not fighting about who's the favourite child and who got spoiled; we're arguing over which parent was in the wrong. It is pissing me off because dad's already died, and Takeru's missing the point. He puts mother up on a pedestal, worshipping her for all that goodness and garbage she spouts out, but I know mother for who she really is.

I'm not saying I hate or I don't respect my mother, I just don't trust her. I've lost respect for her a long time ago. Takeru's continuously been trying to force us together, to prove that I'm being childish and that I should let bygones be bygones and yada yada yada. But no, I can't. Because if I forgive her for the faults she has done, I'd be disrespecting father and I...I can't find it in myself to do so.

"You're at least coming to the monthly dinner tonight?"

I frown. Somehow Takeru convinces me into agreeing to go out for dinner with him and mother tonight. I anticipate it to be a headache, but I can't get out of it when my younger brother gives me those expecting, puppy eyes of his. He works it well. He always has. How else has he gotten out of trouble over the years? He's truly a master at manipulation.

Getting what he wants, Takeru finally backs off. He jokes, "I'll head off now and leave you to your sexy times."

Takeru doesn't let me make up an excuse as he sees himself out the door. "I'll see you another tonight. Have fun."

It's one of the numerous times I find myself wondering how _exactly_ we are related to each other. I exhale a strangled sigh, glad that he's gone. Walking past the hallway, I approach my bedroom and shake my head.

The sight of her in my bed makes me smile.

"What?" She blinks at me.

Her cheeks are flushed and it's amusing watch her pretend that she is fine. I know she's listened to the exchange of words between Takeru and I, but it's cute how she's acting all shy. She most definitely hadn't been shy last night. We had one hot night. And, I know, that if I slide next her again, under the sheets, I'd be tempted to repeat what we had done all over again. I know better not to because once I'm in bed with her, I don't think I'd want to let her go.

I resort to teasing her instead, "I forgot there was a fiery goddess in my bed."

I narrowly dodge a pillow that she's thrown at me, making a show of displaying that I have her clothing - mostly her lingerie and maid outfit. She looks embarrassed, so I turn round and go through the wardrobe to find her a change of clothes. I peek over my shoulder, "Did you want to shower?"

She agrees, so I tell her that I'll search for an extra towel for her. Sora doesn't speak after my comment. I know that whatever she's heard from Takeru and I is making her hesitant, curious even. It's like she's scared to cross the line, not knowing where to stand, or what to say. She wants to though. I can tell by the way she's looking at me.

I do it for her, querying, "Aren't you going to say something?"

"About what?" she pretends to feign confusion.

I remark, "You heard all of that, didn't you?" There's no point beating around the bush like this.

"Of course I did," she admits. "I wasn't going to bring it up because I hate prying, and it's not my business anyway."

I snap, "That's all you're going to say?"

"To be honest," Sora responds, "I don't know _what_ to say. Nobody around me has ever passed away. I can't even provide good advice-"

"I'm _not_ asking for advice," I mutter, quite defensive of the whole situation. "But at least you're not saying that you're sorry for me and giving me a pity party. I really hate it when people do that. Whenever anybody finds out that my father has passed away, all they do is swamp me with unnecessary condolences."

I don't get what made it inside me to speak like an ass to her, but I am fed up with it and I _am_ speaking the truth. She's not throwing fake condolences around, and I _do_ appreciate it in a weird, twisted way.

Sora tilts her head on the side, gazing at me, "You're kind of prickly. You only reveal things about yourself that you _want_ to reveal. And it's not like you ever brag that you're a musician and what you've accomplished. I almost forgot that Takeru and you have the same father..."

I thought we'd leave it at that. She's still talking about my father, and I mention that it's something I don't like talking about. Even Taichi finds it difficult bringing him up around me. Asides from Taichi barging into my life this past week, in the back of my mind I had not wanted to address the anniversary because it's _still_ sore to think about.

"...it's upsetting; which is only normal for you to feel this way. Especially when your father was a really nice man."

That catches my attention. I take a couple of steps closer to her, raising an eyebrow at her. "You knew him?"

She divulges that she met dad at Takeru's engagement, explaining how he had been in high spirits that my brother was getting married. And I half scowl and laugh when Sora brings up that dad told her that he had always assumed that if one of his sons were to marry, he gathered it would be me with Taichi. Even with a stranger, he was cracking jokes. But that was something dad would do; and it's kinda funny to know that he met Sora before I had.

Sora questions me if I was at the engagement and I can't help but frown at the thought, explaining to her that I had been touring with the band. It's something I always regretted. Like a wedding, an engagement only happens once. Well, unless you divorce and remarry. However, I bet my whole life on the fact that Takeru and Hikari will never separate. They're the strongest force I know. My parents had divorced, but I always knew that _nothing_ could ever get between my brother and his wife.

She points out that at least I had attended the wedding, unlike she had, but it doesn't really make me feel any better. I mutter, "I guess we can be equally awful together."

Her hold is like static on my skin, barely grazing my shoulder as she walks into the bathroom. I chuckle after her, "You're not a distraction."

She definitely is. She hasn't even closed the bathroom door. Does she expect me to creep in after her? I roll my eyes at myself. _Great Yamato. Keep thinking lewd thoughts._ I do her the favour and close the door for her.

I'm cooking pancakes when Sora ambles into the kitchen. Her hair is towel-dried, sticking slightly out at different directions. The loose shirt and pants suit her well. There are still etches of last night hinted on her skin, from the marks on her neck, to her swollen lips. She sets onto the plate of pancakes I'd already prepared at the kitchen counter. _Christ._ I direct my attention back at the pancakes, trying to not stare too much.

A whistle breaks the silence, which is later followed with a scream. "TAKERU?"

"SORA?!"

I dread turning around, but of course I do. And there he is. My damned brother has come back. I want to hit him across the head with the spatula I'm holding. It's not the fact that he's here; it's the fact that he's smirking and something in his eyes tells me he's not going to forget about this moment, nor is he going to let us off the hook. This is my brother we're talking about, he's the inbred of evil and knows how to act all innocent in front of your face, before throwing you into a pool of sharks.

"Oh!" Takeru bursts out dramatically, " _Ohhhh!_ "

He's caught us. I get it. But he doesn't _need_ to bloody exaggerate it. It's obvious why Sora's here at this time in the morning. It's obvious what we've done because she's in my clothes. It's even more obvious that I don't want Takeru addressing it even longer. I grumble, "Don't you have responsibilities?"

In other words, get the fuck out.

Takeru laughs as he reads in between the lines. He reaches across the kitchen counter, eyes sparkling as he explains himself. "I left my wallet."

Of course he did.

Then he has to say, "Did I interrupt _something_?"

I groan, but I really can't deal with my brother right now. What does he want me to say, what does Sora want to say? I don't care about saying we slept together, I wouldn't even mind disguising it that we're together...but it's up to Sora how she wants to label us. I'm not going to say anything that makes her uncomfortable. Whatever rolls her boat. I doubt we'll ever sleep together again. We had both needed a distraction, and this had been the final of our foolish actions.

Since she hasn't replied, Takeru beats us, teeth grinning, "Wait until I tell Hikari about this!"

Sora warns, " _Don't._ "

So there's the answer. What had I expected? My shoulders are less tense as I watch the situation play out before me, wondering what's Takeru's next, irritating move to make us squirm even more.

Takeru chooses to further mock us, "So you're Yamato's current vixen? And to think that you actually _own_ a maid outfit, Sora. All this time I thought you were the Mother Mary out of the pack."

"Fuck off," I snarl at him.

Even death threats from Sora's end doesn't faze him, rebutting that Sora would never do such a thing now that he knows our 'little' secrets. The asshole. I rub my eyes, tired of this. "Don't tell anybody, Takeru."

Takeru guffaws as he spins on his heels, readying to leave again for the second time. This isn't looking good. Despite my request, I know he'll disclose this new information to whoever the heck he feels like by the look on the face that he has. It's the same facial expression he'd use whenever he'd steal chocolate from mother's secret stash. He knows he's up to no good, and he's one of those few select people who can get away with being a brat.

Before I turn to Sora, to ask her opinion with what to do with my meddlesome brother, I notice that's she's put on her coat, bag in one hand, another pancake in the other. She's chasing after Takeru. I catch her arm. "Leaving already?"

"Somebody has got to talk to him," she replies to me, "Besides, I need a lift."

"I was going to drive you."

She shakes her head, saying it's better off if she leaves now to convince Takeru to not tell anybody. I admit, maybe I'm a bit bitter about it. Is it that bad that she really doesn't want to be with me? Then again, what had I expected. We'd made it clear to each other that we would just be 'friends' and that we wouldn't sleep together again...and now look what has happened?

Sora puts her shoes on, straightening her back as she waves at me, ever so awkwardly. Her hand doesn't fall back on her side, instead reaching towards me. I gaze at her in wonder, as her hand slips on the side of my face, brushing a strand of hair away from my eyes. Biting on my bottom lip, I take a step back because the thought of kissing her again entices me.

"Don't worry. I'll keep him quiet, Yamato," she reassures me, mistaking my apprehension as worry of being found out by Takeru.

She sends me a smile as I watch her run off.

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* * *

At his intermission, I slide a chair next to his piano stool. He pushes his frames higher up the bridge of his nose, glimpsing me at his side. His face breaks into a smile when he notices that I'm holding a glass of water with a wedge of lime in it, and the bowl of peanuts - that I had swiped from the bar - resting on my lap.

If you've known Yutaka as long as I have, you know his food preferences. While Taichi can eat anything that's shove at his face, Yutaka is a picky eater and if there is no wedge of lime or lemon in his water, he'd refuse to drink it. He's slightly on the OCD side whenever it relates to his consumptions.

Taking a sip from the glass, he stretches his legs, one elbow is on the piano, propping his head as he looks at me. "I didn't realise your dinner was tonight."

I reply dryly, "And I can't wait for it."

"Why'd you pick this place?"

Yutaka rotates around the Tokyo's Grand Hyatt. I had intentionally picked this night because I knew his roster involved him at the hotel's restaurant. If I hadn't picked a location for dinner tonight, mother would have made us go her favourite French restaurant - a restaurant that I absolutely hate because we've been there too much, that my tongue has become numb to the taste of their food, proving to be no longer delightful.

"Moral support?" I smile dimly. "In case I lose my cool."

"I don't see how I can assist you then. I can't exactly stop playing music to prevent your mother and you fighting. Whenever the both of you are in the same room, war always ensues."

"Thanks for your support."

"You're welcome," Yutaka chuckles. He's known about my issues with my mother. Most of my close friends have, especially the ones that I have known during high school and pre band debut. "She's just being a mother to you, you know? She missed raising you, so every opportunity she gets, she likes to discipline you."

"She forgets I'm over thirty."

"Doesn't stop her from being your mother," Yutaka points out. Although he disagrees with a lot of my mother's methods and how she acts, he still gives her the benefit of the doubt. That's the type of person Yutaka is. He likes to see both sides of the stories, even if I'm more than convinced that I'm more on the percentile of correct than my mother is.

Then again, Yutaka hails from a perfect family. If his career as pianist fades away, he's got lots of careers to fall back onto. He's active in the stock market, has accountants for parents and even bought investment properties prior to the age of twenty-one. Yutaka took a risk joining the band, knowing well enough that he'd be fine financially if we failed to debut.

On the other hand, dad and I struggled. We were living off instant noodles and I had to work shift work at a convenience store, even working night shifts to scrape some money in. Mother always had more money on her side, but father and I refused to take any of it because it felt disrespectful to the very little pride we had left. After all, it had been her fault they had separated.

"Have you been getting any sleep?" Yutaka murmurs, reaching over to grab a handful of peanuts in the palm of his hand. He observes the dark circles that are probably heavy, under my eyes. "Is the company overworking you again?"

"I'm fine," I say.

As fine as I can be. Dad's death anniversary, Taichi's been at my place moping like a zombie at my place all week, work's been hectic, Takashi hates my guts, Kaori's been disrupting my dreams and then there was this darn attractive redhead in my bed last night. Yes, I'm fine. I've been sleeping _completely_ well.

"You don't look it. Should I have a word with Seiji-san and Satou-san?"

I glare at him to stop delving any further. Yutaka rolls his eyes at me in response.

I don't want Yutaka to personally contact my manager or boss. They've already been at it about me going back to therapy sessions, and I really don't want to go. Scheduling it in my already busy schedule will probably ruin me even more. Besides, I've been doing well without them lately. The sessions required effort, talking shit about yourself, and getting further psychoanalysed...and that's something that I do _not_ want right now. I hate being looked at like a specimen to be diagnosed. Sometimes being physically sick is much better when people try to pry inside your mind.

"Looks like your mother is here."

And right he is. Not only he has turned at her direction. Many heads in the restaurant have because one mother strides into a place, she demands attention without even asking for it.

My mother's always had one of those dominant personalities, and her presence always is noticed. Light brown hair cropped perfectly just above her neck, neat formal attire, dressed in a pale pink business suit (a feat that only few people can pull off), black pointy heels, as she grasps onto a caramel leather clutch. Perhaps it's her fashion sense, and the way that she - like me - are obviously a mix of Japanese and European. She never falters from their gazes, she absorbs it. Perhaps that's why father fell for her; her confidence was both a positive trait and her own downfall.

Her eyes are firm, posture on point as she scouts the area for me. Red lips slightly open when she says my name, "Yamato?"

"I'll see you soon," I say to Yutaka as I push my chair back. I place the bowl of peanuts on the piano, which he scolds me for, but I'm already steadily pacing myself over to where she is.

She picks the best spot in the room, one with perfect lighting, by the window with the best view of Tokyo city. She kisses me on both my cheeks as I pull out the chair for her to take a seat in. I can already feel the friction escalating.

"Where's Takeru?"

I can't deal with her on my own, as much as I'd never like to admit this to my younger brother. Takeru's the only reason why I'm here, and the only person who can manage to keep my mother and I both at bay.

"He's running five minutes late. His wife was doing the groceries, so he had to wait for her to look after the kids."

Although my brother's been married for years already, my mother still sees to it that she doesn't call Hikari by her first name. Sometimes I get the impression that she's envious of Hikari for stealing Takeru away from her, or the fact that their relationship was less likely to hit the rocks like it had with father.

She smooths out the herringbone-woven napkin over her thighs. Her nails are painted red too, manicured to perfection. I feel foolish looking at my own, fingers dry, and calloused, nails broken and uneven from how frequent I'd play the guitar. She arches a thin eyebrow as she scans through the menu. "Quite an average range to select from, Yamato."

"Average, but they cook it well," I respond back, not taking any of her nonsense. She's obviously offended that I hadn't agreed to go to her favourite restaurant, but she knows that if we hadn't gone here, I wouldn't have made a dinner appearance. It's not often I make such a request.

She comments, "You weren't at the cemetery."

I hate how she's intentionally bringing this up when Takeru's not around. Not only is she talking about father's grave, but how she's failing to speak of his name irritates me.

"I already went this week." _Without you._

I'd preferred it to be that way. Last year I had gone with Takeru and my mother to visit dad's tombstone, and it felt fake. Maybe it's because I had been used to spending time with father alone, and not with any other family members.

"Yamato, mother dearest," Takeru saves us. He does an exaggerated bow as he presents mother a bouquet of white baby-breaths. Mother's lips slightly quirk upwards, the first sign of approval this evening.

He takes a seat in the middle so that mother is on one side, and I am on the other, like a referee to a boxing match.

The thing about mother and I, is that we're always fighting. Well, it's more one-sided. It's usually mother spouting out shit about what I should do, what I should improve on, how working in the entertainment industry was useless. Fun stuff like that. It's been an ongoing battle. I think it stems down to the fact that I chose to live with father over her. The teenage angst had transited to angst, and had never dissolved between the two of us. We just never got along.

As we give the waiter our order, mother doesn't miss a beat. "How's work?"

I try not to let out a deep sigh. No matter what reply I say, I know that she'll be dissatisfied and find a way to dissect my words and turn it against me. Takeru sends me a look, so I finally talk.

"Busy. I've been composing, mentoring new artists and tutoring guitarists."

"But you're not earning as much money as you were in the band?" Mother replies. _Ah, here we go._ "You're wasting your time composing. You'll earn more money if you get a proper job. You've always been good with numbers. Why don't you go to the business or accounting side?"

" _Right_ mother. I'll go back to university, study a four year degree and get into the field that you've always wanted me to do, like the good son you've always wanted," I say. Takeru doesn't hold back a sigh, already knowing that my sarcasm has just now put fuel into the flame.

She chides, "Don't speak to me in that tone, Yamato."

"I'm saying it how it is."

"You wouldn't have been in this situation if you had listened to me."

"Who said I was complaining?" I growl back. "I like where I am right now."

"Do you?" Her eyes flash, challenging me. _Christ._ I wonder the day when mother and I will ever have a civil dinner without wanting to slice each other's throats. She keeps going, "Takeru's doing well. He's married now. Has children. Has a house. Doesn't have the best job, but he co-manages the childcare with Hikari. He's thinking about the future, what are you thinking about?"

"Please don't bring me into this," Takeru groans, burying his hands into his face.

"Exactly. Stop comparing me to your star child," I seethe. "I don't care what you think. I never have. If I valued your opinion, do you think I would have asked for it by now?"

Takeru frowns, whispering to me on the side, " _Yamato…"_

But I don't think I've gone too far. She's the one that started it; she's the one that started everything and I don't think I could ever forgive her for it.

Then she says something that flares my anger even more, "You're exactly like your father."

I know it's not a compliment, and so be it if she sees me this way. Maybe that's why we argue too much, when she looks at me she's facing father. A man she used to love. A man that she sabotaged. Let guilt eat her up because she's the one that caused all this.

"You know what?" I say, throwing the napkin onto the table and standing up. "I'm not hungry. I'll see you another time."

" _Yamato_!" my brother calls out for me.

I ignore him, desperately wanting to get out of the restaurant as soon as possible. I storm past Yutaka who gives me a questioning look, fingers accidentally skipping a couple of notes on the piano. I shake my head and keep going.

At the lobby, instead of exiting the hotel, I aim for the escalators and press the top floor. I key in the passcode, kicking off my shoes as I stalk into the penthouse. There's a small bottle of whisky at the bar; a bottle that I immediately down. Beers? Yes. I'll have a couple too, thank you very much.

I'm at my fifth beer of _Kirin_ , when I sit on the carpet, legs sprawled, leaning back and glaring at the flashing missed calls visible on my phone.

Mother. Brother. Yutaka. _Shut up._ My eyes focus on the ceiling. It's as white, as blank as I feel right now. Mother always knows how to fucking press my buttons. She always hits where it hurts. I know I'm not as successful as Takeru. I know my life isn't planned out to perfect precision and I know I've fucked up a lot.

Grunting, I push my hands up from the floor, gait unsteady as I limp towards the window with the sparkling view of Tokyo. Lights flash, disturbing yet beautiful. Lights flash, and I remember her scream, her falling over the balcony. Lights flash, and I remember the crowds cheering at our first gig at Tokyo Dome. Lights flash, and I see a monotone of darkness.

I close the curtains. I don't want to see it anymore.

As the curtains block the view, I don't know if I'm wrong...but I feel like the curtains feel heavy, like a slight weight has been added to them. I inspect them, fingers feeling the material, the linings, and for some reason it feels slippery. _Fucking_ Takashi.

Snatching a knife from the drawer next to the minibar, I squat down and slice the lining. Sure enough, about thirty packets of powder fall onto the carpet. They're labelled. I assort them, putting the plastic sachets into piles based on category, like I'm building sandcastles, not composed of sand, but of drugs. They look pretty, glistening in the dim lighting.

Downing another beer, I gaze at my discovery. My head's foggy and I know an easy high would be a great distraction. A great release. I'm not sleepy. I'm not tired. I'm _fucking_ exhausted and I need to get out of this hellhole. I need out and I need it right now.

It's not like I haven't tried anything before. My fingers skim over one of the sachets, feeling the grains through the plastic.

I open the weakest packet.

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 **(a/n)** Kinda wrote the last scene right now. I needed to be in the right mindset, and it kinda helps that I'm slightly hung-over right now. Right mind set right? I think, from here, you'll slowly get glimpses of Yamato falling apart (I'm just assuming most of you have read Bittersweet Catastrophe to get what I am referencing). Thanks for reading thus far ;)


	17. chapter sixteen: mood breakers

_your warmth_  
 _softly stroked my cheek_  
 _gently_  
 _the quiet illusion of love_

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stand by me - anna tsuchiya insp'NANA

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 **.**

 **[LIFELINES]**

chapter sixteen: **m** ood **b** reakers

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Maybe it's obvious I'm scowling because Hikari turns on her heels and leers at me. "You didn't have to go with me, you know?"

My cute sister-in-law, that I had already considered a sister prior to her marrying my brother, is anything but cute right now. I remember her prancing around in a pink, sparkly tutu the first time I met her. I also remember how I was amazed that she was related to Taichi, as she seemed the polar opposite. Little did I know that, despite appearances, the two can be similar at times. Stubbornness and the ' _I'm right about anything and everything_ ' runs in their blood. Taking for instance, right now...

Her lips are pursed, lines creasing her forehead as she points at me in an exasperated manner. "If you're going to keep complaining-"

I protest, "I am _not_ complaining-"

"-pick the cake you reckon Risa will like instead of sighing every time I'm about to take one from the shelf."

Yes, maybe I haven't been as inconspicuous as I had thought. It can't be helped when she picked a cake store that has a truckload of variety. During times like these, I'm really thankful that Mimi usually bakes all-occasion cakes for us (and there's been no update with Taichi and Mimi. I'm assuming their fine considering they _both_ haven't been picking up any of my calls since Taichi texted me a thumbs up). To think that we had already forgotten about the main dessert of the birthday party. This is why I'm here, with Hikari, doing a last minute errand because we hadn't realised there was no cake for my niece to blow out her candles on.

"Anything but that diabetes-inducing chocolate mudcake." I motion at the chocolate cake that is mounted with thick icing.

"Kids love mudcakes," Hikari remarks.

"Kids...or you?" I say back. I've seen Hikari demolish a whole bar of chocolate before. She's probably the worst chocoholic I know. She takes a swipe at my head, but narrowly misses me. I chuckle. "Or maybe Strawberry Shortcake, or something caramel? Everybody loves caramel."

"I don't. It's too sticky."

"God, you're so pick. Hikari, hasn't anybody told you that you have horrid taste?"

"Stop talking about yourself," Hikari snaps back. "I don't even know why you're getting all passionate about cake. However, what I do know, is that you're prolonging the time of us getting back to the party. I've never seen you raise your hand to volunteer so quickly. We both know that you're only accompanying me here because you're evading your mother."

"Am not," I deny.

Obviously it's true. Hikari is really good at reading body language, and it's probably also the main reason why only she can anchor down my brother. I mean, if Taichi's your older brother and Takeru's your husband, she would have had some techniques to get those two idiots to behave. Trust me, even I can't. However she beats me whenever it comes down to controlling them, and I know that I don't stand a chance up against her if we ever get into an argument.

I proceed to back up my own failing case, "I couldn't let both parents leave their own child's birthday. Besides, I wanted to spend quality time with my favourite sister-in-law."

"Quality time?" She snorts. "And I'm your _only_ sister-in-law, so I'm your favourite by default."

After a few more minutes of bickering, we settle for this rainbow flavoured ice-cream. Hikari buys an additional 'Happy Birthday' on a slab of white chocolate (I told you she's a chocoholic), and a unicorn candle (I don't get kids' fascination over unicorns lately. They're ugly and weird-looking) before departing from the cake store.

When we get back to Hikari's place, I'm exhausted. There are more cars parked on their street, meaning more people had turned up to the party. The thought of seeing flocks of people inside one tiny apartment makes me feel clammy, and when Hikari asks me if I'm alright, I tell her that I'll be there in a sec, after a cigarette.

Hikari's reluctant to get out of the car. She kisses me on the cheek. I turn towards her as she steps out, onto the pavement. "What?"

She shrugs, smiling. "It's still sweet of you to come today. I know it's been a hard time for you, with the death anniversary and all, and I know you're not on the friendliest terms with your mother...but thanks for making the effort to be here today, onii-chan. It means a lot to me, to Takeru..."

Didn't I tell you my sister-in-law is cute when she wants to be? The image of her as a seven-year-old in a tutu flashes in my mind again, and I can't help but return the smile. "I'll be up soon."

The answer is enough for her as she closes the door, heading back to the party.

I retract my hands from my pockets, that had been searching for the sachets but had come to a halt when Hikari had spoken to me. I had only one, or two hits...ever since I had broken my clean streak, ever since I had that meltdown at the penthouse. And I'm _still_ jittery from it. It's not like ice is that addictive; it's not heroin. Besides, I was never like Takashi. I never took the hard stuff; I always had control and took weak drugs on a casual, social frequency (the last would have been five years ago and it was a one-off thing). But the fact that I had taken extra sachets with me to Risa's party made me feel disgusted in myself, and slightly frustrated that the drug is having this kind of affect on me, when I hardly ever got like this.

Once my breathing is steady, I get out of my car and I resort to taking the back entrance. At least then, nobody will bother me and I know that it's my body's way of saying that I need to take a breather, to have some time on my own to recollect my thoughts before joining the guests.

Takeru's study will have to do. The last time I was here was when I had helped Takeru move in. I had thought it would be just a boring desk and computer, but he had done it up. A couple of bookshelves, cramped with literature (I don't know how he can even manage to read all this trash when he has children), but there's a shelf that attracts more of my attention - a shelf full of CDs. Because my brother is so entranced with his literature, I had forgotten that on the odd occasion he _does_ listen to music. Dad's love for music hadn't only impacted on me.

I reach out for a familiar album, eyes scanning through the track-list on the back, I curiously take the disc out of the case. And, it's then, that I see glint of movement from the reflection of the disc. I glance behind me and I try not to act surprised when I catch her by the doorway.

"Hey Sora."

Yes, it's the woman that's been turning me down all week. Then again, I haven't been as pushy as I could have to capture her attention. Funny that despite things going on around me, I'm still curious about her. The sad thing is that I even had flicked her some texts, but hadn't received on replies. I had tried to appear smooth at first, just asking if she knew the update with Taichi and Mimi, then stupidly flirting what her pancake preference was...but that was all. She ignored most of my texts. Anyway, she's the type of girl that deserves somebody better than me, especially when I'm pretty much fucked up. However, whenever I see her in person, I can't resist how inviting she is; how intriguing she is...

Maybe I've just been losing it. Although shit is happening around me, I'm continuously making a fool out of myself in front of her. I don't mind it though. It's worth it, especially when I get to see her all flustered. I mean, the last time we had been with each other was when Takeru had caught us after sleeping together. She pretends she's fine, stammering as she asks me why I'm not outside and mingling with the other party attendees.

"...I was hiding from my mother," I say as I watch her close the door behind her.

Not waiting for her reply, or to make sense of what I said, I place the CD into the player and hum along with the bass to the first song in The Arctic Monkeys 'AM' album. I don't know if Sora likes it or not, but I can see her chin bobbing up and down to the beat. Because of this, I get all geeky and comment on the album, Takeru's shitty taste in music how I pick up the bass in most songs considering it was the instrument I was known to play when I was in KOD.

During my passionate spiel about music, she makes herself comfortable on the sofa. She simpers when I talk nerdy to her, and after pacing back and forth the room, I don't fail to see her eying me back with piqued interest. The same way, the same look on her face that permitted me to keep going after she had climaxed the first time. Her cheeks are tinged and my heart is racing in the same rhythm of the purring bass.

I sit next to her and when I'm about to lean in, she closes her eyes. Her body is tense when I place my hands over hers. "Sora-I-if you don't want…"

Maybe I'm greedy. I keep wanting more from her, when I know that at the end of the line there will be nothing between us. I know she doesn't like me the way how I feel for her. And to think I even feel this way about her. I hadn't felt this way about anybody for a long time, and every time I do...all I do is think about Kaori, and regret bleeds into my mind.

She's not responding, so I slide my hand away from hers. As soon as my skin isn't touching hers, she makes a grab for me and I catch my breath when her dark brown eyes gaze up at me, like she's thinking, in the same predicament I am. My fingers lace through hers, waiting, wishing...and it's when she squeezes my hand...I'm already on her, unable to contain myself as my lips dig into the curve her neck. I sigh when she lets out a soft gasp.

Like the droning bass, the feel of her in my arms is also sedating and calming. She's better than any drug, she's alive, she's breathing, she's kind, and by damn she's gorgeous. Sora changes position, manoeuvring onto my lap and taking charge, making me cease the trail of kisses on her neck, to her covering her lips over mine, tongue cheekily delving into my mouth. I hold back a moan. Her movements are fire and auburn is the last colour I see as I close my eyes when our kissing deepens.

We break away for a minute. My eyes search hers if she wants to proceed. She doesn't have to do this, she has an option to opt out..but _darn_ she's licking her lips again and she's closing the space between us again. I hold firmly onto her hips, before my left hand climbs up her floral-patterned blouse. She bites her bottom lip, eyelashes fluttering as I my fingers almost reach her mounds until we hear the door creak.

"Aunty Sora! Uncle Yamato!"

 _Fuck._

I withdraw my hands from Sora as she jolts off me, forcing her body onto the opposite side of the sofa as she straightens out the skirt. Right. We weren't doing. Nothing at all. If it was anybody else, I would have thrown my shoe at him. But, hell, it's my nephew.

Grinning stiffly, I try to sound as chirpy as I can, when I grumble, "Hiroto-kun? What are you doing here?"

"Hide and seek," he says, oh so innocently. However, the little boy is too smart for his own good as he glances between the both of us, flustered on the sofa. "I'll find another room to hide in. I don't want to interrupt."

 _Interrupt?_

Sora looks just bemused as I am from Hiroto's response. We don't need to clarify it because Hiroto then speaks, "I've caught mummy and daddy doing what you were doing many times."

 _God save me._ I did _not_ want to know what my younger brother and my cute sister have been up to. And, the fact, that they had been careless to have Hiroto walk in on them. I might as well vomit in my own mouth while we're at it. What a mood breaker. Hiroto the mood breaker. Perhaps I'll call my nephew that nickname from now on.

Hiroto goes back out of the room, leaving me with a bewildered Sora. We gaze at each other before we both peel into laughter. I have to clutch my stomach because it earns me a stitch in the stomach from laughing so hard.

Since we're both in a high mood, I suggest we hide in the closet. She reprimands me, but I tell her I was joking. I'm half-joking. The mood has been ruined, and Hiroto was probably sent from the higher entities to remind us, irresponsible adults, that we're actually here for Risa's birthday. It still doesn't stop me from teasing Sora, who is still frazzled by the whole ordeal.

Knowing that we can't hide any longer from the party, I get up first. I don't stare back at Sora because if I do, I'd probably find myself going back to the sofa and wanting to make out with her again. It's not safe. She's not safe; we're not safe when we're together because lust is our common enemy that we allow to take control of us. Now isn't the right time.

Stepping back into the open, I whisper to Sora, "Save your ears and your own life. Escape, Takenouchi," when I catch my mother approaching me like the vulture she is.

I push Sora away before she can interrogate me about my mother; if I can do the same thing to my mother as well.

"Are you going to keep pretending I don't exist, Yamato?" My mother's voice reaches me. She slaps my arm, like I'm still a child. And, acting like I child, I still yelp out, "Ouch!"

Her hits still sting, but I figured that would be coming since I had walked out of dinner. She had given me an earful and I hated it. She made me think of things I hadn't wanted to. She made me feel shit about myself. She always knows what to say, what to target, aiming where it hurts the most - and I hate for it. Unfortunately, Takeru had taken me aside this morning and pleaded with me that I act 'normal' with our mother in front of everybody during the party. He did not tell me I had to interact with mother the whole time, so I guess this is the first and last sighting I'll have with her this evening.

I'm still unhappy with what had happened at dinner, but families have got to be good at keeping up appearances, you know? If anything, that's what I've learned about my family. We always try to act fine, when we're not. That's why I'm the way I am now. And although Takeru appears happy-go-lucky, he's a liar too. Our family is full of frauds. I blame it all on mother.

"Don't point your finger at me when you bad-mouthed dad last time we spoke."

"Oh, we spoke?" Here she goes again. She's a pain in the neck, especially when she's this sarcastic.

She deadpans, "You left before we even had a conversation."

I respond back with the taste of her own medicine. "And I wonder why that was…"

"Don't use that tone on me."

 _Hypocrite._

"Well, what do you want me to say?" I retort. "That you fucked dad over? Are you suddenly feeling regretful?"

"Language," my mother scolds because that's the only thing she's good at.

"Right," I say, humorously. I can't be bothered to keep this talk going.

Despite it all, mother uses this as an opportunity to speak about something else. "Jun's here. Why don't you date somebody like her?"

I could tell her that Jun's a lesbian, but she'll probably have a heart attack. Of course when we're not fighting about father, or my career, mother loves giving me a sermon about getting a potential girlfriend. I get enough from her criticising me that Takeru married before me because I wasn't 'setting a good example'. I don't even get what she means by that. There's nobody else for me to 'set an example' to. Takeru's the younger brother. My grandparents are obviously elderly, unless she wants me to set an example to young Keita who can't even form a sentence yet.

On perfect timing, Hikari kisses my mother in the cheek, greeting her and passing us both a plastic cup of punch. "Try it. Sora's made the punch." Bless my cute sister-in-law.

When she leaves, my mother makes a show to direct her attention to Jun, just when I thought she had forgotten what she was talking about, "Go on, speak to her."

"I saw her last week," I grumble. "Besides, she's not my type. We're friends."

"Don't kid me, Yamato," my mother replies, plunging straight to the unspoken subject that I prefer to keep on the low, "You fancied her."

"You're real frustrating, you know?" I'm exasperated by her. I take a sip of the punch.

She is right that I did hold some feelings for Jun. Things like that happen when you get intimate with a person for a long period. I had been reliant on Jun, and although I had thought about taking it up a level, I knew that deep down she didn't share the same interest. It was no surprise when she came out; and I'm thankful that from her realisation we had _somehow_ managed to cut it off between us and continue to remain friends.

It gets worse because Jun chooses to grace us with her presence. My mother had always gotten along with her. Her frown breaks into a smile when she sees Jun, stepping forward to give her an embrace in greeting. Bloody Jun knows how to suck up. Not many people earn my mother's approval, and I really hate how cosy they are with each other.

"This is Rose," Jun nudges her head at her girlfriend. "She's a close friend."

"Oh, Rose. Nice to meet you. I'm Takaishi Natsuko," my mother introduces herself. "How do you know Jun?"

Thank Goodness Jun doesn't expose Rose's true identity to my mother. I gotta owe it to Jun for reading between the lines. At least Rose is here to keep Jun company, and my mother will lay off trying to lump me wherever Jun ambles off to in this small living room. Rose may not be my favourite person, but she is tonight for turning up and blocking me from communicating with Jun as much as I could have. If Jun had turned up alone, my mother would be forcing me to keep her company all night and I probably would have because Jun is my good friend, even without her nagging.

Luck is never on my side whenever it relates to the women in my life. Even with Sora, I hadn't been able to spend some time with her because Hiroto-kun _had_ to interrupt me.

I glimpse across the room, and note that Takeru is by Sora's side. The thought of him catching Sora and me together doesn't sit well in my stomach, and I have an inkling that he's pestering Sora about it by the way he's smirking - the shithead. I may be paranoid, but I know my brother...and he can be darn conniving. From the way Sora's blushing, I already know he's up to no good.

Jun's brother, Daisuke, is also here. He gets along well with Takeru and Hikari, and it seems like Sora too. Daisuke doesn't often hang out with our group, but it appears he knows Sora well enough to strike a conversation. Jun spots her brother, and joins them.

I'm tempted to creep away to where Jun and the others are, but I know it'll be rude to leave Rose with her. Then again, maybe I should considering mother is eyeing Rose with interest. Looks like she'll be the next candidate for an unwanted set-up. I sigh.

And because I'm staring at that direction, I groan when I see Jun whisper something into Sora's ears. My stomach doesn't feel too good watching them because what's worse than Takeru speaking to Sora? Jun speaking to Sora.

Whatever they're chattering about seems to upset Sora, and it's only when Jun gestures that I come over...I'm already escaping to their side of the room. A minute ago I wanted to join them to escape being near my mother, yet now I feel the need to be there to rescue Sora from Jun and my brother's wicked grasp.

"What are you ladies talking about?" I interrupt.

I don't need to wait for an answer because Jun immediately cries out, "That you haven't told Sora that I'm gay!"

Alright. I admit it. I thought it's amusing to see how long it would take for Sora to connect the dots. Besides, it wasn't a story for me to tell. And it's not like Sora's that into me to care. She has assumed that Jun and I are a thing, but I had never delved further into it to explain Jun's sexual orientation.

I lie, "Oh, I thought she already knew."

Jun won't have any of it. She knows I had been keeping Sora out of the loop intentionally. Rose is here now too. Seems like she's ditched my mother with baby Keita. It's a smooth move if I don't say so myself. Anyway, with Rose being here, it helps Jun to further explain to Sora about how she's gay. Sora's having a hard time processing it. Her eyes are wide, mouth slightly agape. It's hell amusing, that I find myself chuckling.

Rose and Jun excuse themselves and I'm with Sora again. Just the two of us... _finally._

Sora gazes at me. Her glare is too apparent, that I change the topic to distract her, "Am I meant to eat all the fruit in the punch?"

She rolls her eyes to me and says it's fine to eat the fruit. It's more of a lady's drink, but it is refreshing and is drinkable. It doesn't even taste like alcohol. The main ingredient that makes the beverage refreshing is the mint, so I joke to Sora that I've eaten the mint as well. I haven't, but it's worth seeing the reaction on her face.

"You didn't have to eat the mint! The mint is just for flavouring and to make it taste refreshing." She giggles.

"Yes. My breath is _minty_ fresh," I tell her because I'm lame like that.

She mutters that she needs a refill, so I follow her to where the bowl of punch is. The others are there, surrounding the punch. Looks like they find it as delicious as I do. I fill her empty cup, passing it to her, before filling my own cup up.

We mock Koushiro about him not bringing his date (it's always funny watching Koushiro get embarrassed because he turns as red as his hair). Takeru fills us in on the goss that Hikari's mad at Taichi for not being here. I feel guilty that I know Taichi's reasons of not being here, but it's not my business to explain it for him. I can't cover his ass forever, not when he's been in Okinawa for a week. I swear, he'd better get his shit sorted with Mimi already. The plane ticket I had purchased for him to go to Okinawa hadn't been cheap.

Taichi and Mimi should be reunited, and together now. I've never witnessed a couple fight this much in my entire life. Sometimes, I swear, the only reason why they fight is to get back together again...like it rekindles their chemistry. Which is why, most of the time, I don't take their fights seriously. Though, the time apart they had had been the longest. And, from the way Taichi had moped at my apartment, I had known the extent of how serious it had been. I just would have never thought Mimi would ever kick Taichi out. I don't blame her for it. Taichi can be a pain in the ass, but he means well.

Miyako pokes me on the arm. "Ever since you've walked in, all you've been doing is drinking. What's the last thing you ate?"

"Sora's mint." I reply without thinking, and it's from the pause that I rethink what I had said to understand everybody's reactions.

Takeru's roaring in laughter. Daisuke is wiping a tear from his eye and utters, "Good one." Miyako is giggling and Jyou, who I'm not all that close to, is fixated on his shoes. Koushiro's still red from when we had ridiculed him about his girlfriend, but that does not stop him from transiting a deeper red.

I stammer, "I didn't mean that...the mint _in_ the punch."

Sora's more embarrassed than me, it seems. She's closing her eyes like she's wishing she can disappear. I'm on the same boat. Somebody remind me to never reply whenever I'm not thinking straight.

"So, tell me, _why_ would you eat the mint, Yamato?" Miyako gives a sly smile.

Our friends tease us more and it's when Takeru whispers quietly, "How did it taste?" I step on his foot and glare at him, unapologetically as he hops on one foot. Serves him right, the prick.

And it's then that is happens. All attention is on Hikari. Sandwiches are scattered on the floor, a silver tray resting besides it. She's not caring about the wasted food, but at whatever she's looking at on the phone that she's holding in her right hand.

My brother rushes to her side, "Hikari?"

We're all surrounding her now, as my sister-in-law displays her phone to us. It's an Instagram photo from Mimi's account. Usually, I don't really care what she shows off to the world on her feed (because it's usually make-up, fashion, or cutesy-stuff that doesn't interest me) asides from her baking creations, but this image, this photo that she has posted has really thrown me in the deep end.

It's a photo of her hand. And there's a ring - a wedding ring.

The caption below has Taichi's Instagram tagged, and soon we all come to the same conclusion. Miyako shrieks, "THEY GOT MARRIED?" and I'm completely at a loss of words.

Why hadn't Taichi told me before he put the ring on Mimi's finger? It would have been nice to get a call or message or warning before he leapt onto the commitment train. How had he been so sure to tie the knot when he hadn't consulted with me, or anybody else? I mean, this _is_ Taichi. He's spontaneous as fuck, but when paired with Mimi...they're impossible. Maybe that's why they're a perfect match.

It still isn't sinking in...until Hikari's mother faints.

Hikari screams,"MAMA!"

Reality hits us all as we migrate around the older Mrs. Yagami. Jyou and Miyako yell at us to give Hikari's mother space as they check her pulse, and monitor her breathing. Having friends in the medical field sure comes in handy. In seconds, Hikari's mother is awake, face a shade paler and overall dishevelled, as dishevelled as you can be post passing out.

"If you ever do elope, I'd disown you," my own mother comments, snidely. Always rough around the edges, that's what my mother is.

Running my hands through my hair, I mutter, "Now isn't the right time to complain."

"Your best friend is foolish for doing what he did."

I reply, "Let Taichi do whatever the hell he wants to do. It's his life, not yours."

I walk away before my mother can speak more shit.

Yes, Taichi is foolish...but it isn't my mother's business, and I hate it when she butts into my life. These guys are my friends, and they've been more like family than she ever has to me. In all honesty, I'd rather disown myself from her being in her wrath.

I'm sore that Taichi and Mimi went off and got married, but what can I do? This is _so_ like them that I shouldn't be all that fazed their sudden announcement. It's beyond my control whenever it concerns the two of them.

Glimpsing across from me, I see Miyako and Sora talking over the same Instagram image that was on Hikari's phone. The women both seem slightly agitated about it, most likely because they were not part of the ceremony. Weddings are more of a girls thing anyway. Just thinking about weddings make me queasy. I had enough from being apart of Takeru's wedding, and even the sweetest girl like Hikari can turn into a goddamn bridezilla.

Besides, it's not like I've ever thought of planning one for myself. Take, for instance, my parents. They didn't last very long. What's the point of being with another person when feelings can change over years, when there's a chance of separation? All the money spent on a wedding day seems like a waste of time. And, even if I ever do fall in love again, the thought of proposing is unlikely.

Koushiro taps my shoulder, "You good?"

"Sensational. How do you feel about not being a part of Taichi's groomsmen?" I ask.

"Grateful," Koushiro laughs, "because we all know Taichi would make me do the budgeting for them. He's horrible with money."

"Well, you _are_ the richest amongst us," I chortle, but my eyes are following Sora.

Koushiro, the observant bastard, notices it straightaway. "Any progress?"

"Other than sleeping together. No. I don't think she wants anything more than that."

"And that bothers you?" Koushiro questions, his tone is laced with humour. "Usually you're fine with not going further. Relationships aren't your thing."

"They weren't my thing since…" I sigh, mood suddenly low.

A whisper. A voice tingles in my ears, warmth casting throughout me in ripples. _You're so special to me and you don't even know it._ She embraces me, thin arms taut and I sigh against her shoulder, the shoulder that always held me, that supported me, that trembled under my weight, the trembles that I didn't realise. The warning. _Would you forgive me if I leave._ I shake my head. _No, you won't leave. I love you._ She cries. _What if love isn't enough? What if I can't anymore.._.

Kaori's presence always haunts my thoughts. She was my first love, after all. She was my first everything. And, sometimes, thinking about falling for another girl makes me feel like I'm betraying her memory. Then again, it was I who stepped away first. It was I who made her do it. I shiver.

"Yamato?"

I blink. Koushiro's frowning, gazing at me in concern. He repeats the same question he asked earlier, "You good?"

"Sensational," I lie.

He doesn't believe me the slightest.

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 **(a/n)** lol. this feels like foreplay towards the emo-train. i know that most of you will get this because you've read bittersweet catastrophe first. i don't even know how to feel about this because shit will literally hit the fan soon. anyway, thanks for reading. more extended scenes from the party here, and the whole hikari x yamato scene wrote itself out. it was nice to finally touch on the both of them together.

will reply to reviews tomorrow ;) have a merry christmas and happy new year if i don't see you till then. safe holidays!


	18. chapter seventeen: taking chances

_get up and go._  
 _i know you want her._  
 _i can see it in your eyes._  
 _boy, don't even try and hide._

 _what else must you know._  
 _don't analyse._  
 _love can be so simple._  
 _when you leave your past behind._

 _go and get her, go and get her._  
 _yeah, she's waiting for you._

.

teddy loves her - meg & dia

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(i really love this song. go check it out)

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 **[LIFELINES]**

chapter seventeen: **t** aking **c** hances

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Time doesn't like to stay still, it likes to keep striding obnoxiously forward, ceasing to remember the past. If only I could be like that. If only I had the strength to keep plunging forward, like nothing has happened, like nothing would ever affect me.

Sometimes you have your days when you feel like absolute shit. And, minus some entertaining days, with some friends, my mood has been on the lower side than the higher. Now, it's not in the sense that I hate the world; and the world hates me kinda thing, but more on an energy level. Every task is gruelling, mundane, and draining. Life is repetitive, and taxing that it's cumbersome to even breathe.

People demand things from you, you demand things from them. Moments like these make me question, makes me wonder whether somebody can be truly happy. Is happiness an altered state of the mind, or a fake euphoria? Because even during the 'happy' times in my life, I still feel it's mixed with anxiety and a swirl of other emotions. And, within a blink of an eye, the happiness can disappear as quickly as it can be attained. The same sensation when you almost light a candle, but the flame immediately diminishes, leaving a cloak of darkness that consumes you, that eats you up inside.

And sometimes she's more vivid in my mind; so vivid that it's like her thin fingers are clutching around my throat, suffocating me, not permitting me to sleep nor to forget.

I had had glimpses of happiness. I had loved; and I had loved hard. It had been more than enough, it had been all I needed...but then I had gotten selfish. I took advantage of something, of her, something that I should have foreseen. Something that I should acknowledged before everything went haywire. And, maybe, because whenever I am faced with something worth it, guilt reminds me that I don't deserve it. Guilt reminds me to atone, to remember how foolish I was - I am - to remind me that happiness isn't something unconceivable for me.

Set your mind straight. Keep going. Work. Work has always been on my side. When all else fails, it's been my constant. Taichi often claims it engulfs me, and maybe it does. Music is like a love/hate relationship to me. There are moments I like to indulge, to absorb the sounds, the compositions I make, the songs pouring out of the speakers. Other times, it likes to mock me. I can't produce any melodies, it takes me away from the present, prickling at my brain, reminding me of what was. Music is like another entity in my life, almost like a person, or perhaps a God, whistling down my spine, pulsating staccato beats against my heart.

"Yamato-senpai?"

Her polished leather shoes transits to sneakers. I tilt my head to the side, vaguely and confused for a minute as I capture Miho's concerned, yet impatient, face. I swiftly lean over the recording equipment, hiding an empty plastic packet. Using my elbow, I slide the packet onto my lap, quickly covering it with my jacket before she can notice.

Her hands are on her hips as she sighs, "Were you even listening to me?"

My breaths feel laboured, stuck in my chest, but I manage to mumble, "Yes."

"Bullshit." She frowns. "You're always interrupting me throughout my recordings, giving me advice. You haven't said a thing since you stepped into the studio, and you were late too, might I add..."

"Really? He's always been the punctual one." Another voice creeps up from behind her, and I catch our CEO lurking behind her.

Miho steps back, stammering and bowing at the old man more than a couple of times. If only she'd show this much respect to me as she shows to him. She doesn't delve further into arguing with me, seeing that our session has ended. I glance at the clock. Had two hours past already? I probably should make it up for Miho. It was unprofessional of me to...

"Yo," Seiji-san says as soon as Miho's exited the studio.

"Please don't say that," I mutter, cringing as I shake my head at him. "Even I'm too old to use 'yo' for a greeting. It's goddamn embarrassing."

It's rare that Seiji crawls out of the top office these days. I would have expected my manager, Satou, and even then Satou doesn't check on me as frequently anymore, so to have Seiji standing here, back crooked, hands in his pockets as he gives me a look-over...I can't help but feel irritated at the unwanted attention. He's here to purposely check on me. Maybe it's because I haven't responded to any of his messages concerning Takashi. He hates it when I don't reply, but I guess everybody hates that. And, whenever Seiji doesn't get what he wants, or whenever I won't wag my tail to his tune, he digs his teeth further into the situation and won't let go - take now for instance.

He's always been like a second father to me, and because of this, I'm sometimes shit at hiding things from him - especially now, that he's caught me off guard with this spontaneous visit.

"It's not like you to be late."

I shrug. "Slept through my alarm. Must have been tired."

"I'll bet," Seiji frowns. "Didn't I tell you to take more days off if you're feeling under the weather."

Like I said, Seiji doesn't like to let things go. He's not leaving any time soon because he's made himself all comfy on the sofa across from me. The bastard.

I murmur to him, "I've got to get to my next schedule-"

"It's your own rehearsal time. You don't have anything pressing to attend to ."

"Somehow I feel like I'm getting ambushed. Are you intentionally taking tabs on me by snooping my timetable out?"

"Yes." Seiji isn't even bothering to deny it. He smirks when he watches me groan at him. I get enough mothering from my own mother, Takeru, Satou, Jun and _now_ him? While Taichi is my best friend, it's easy to hide things from him since he always sees things that are in front of him, so I make sure to let him see what I want him to see. Kou is good at picking things up, but he doesn't nag me and wisely chooses to speak when I really want his opinion.

And my bandmates are more transparent with me. They like to invade my personal space. Unlike Taichi and Kou, I had spent long hours on the road with the band, toured, shared hotel rooms with the members, and relentlessly rehearsed long stretches of hours with them. And when one of us acts up, it is obvious because it affects how we perform. I'm usually the reserved, closed off one that my close friends go to for advice, seeing as I'm the oldest, but when I'm with KOD it's like I'm downgraded because, although being the leader, I was the youngest. The band somehow knew how to read me, and would be a bunch of assholes, dragging me to say shit and being forced into circumstances that I may have never wanted. More than anything, KOD are like brothers to me. We're all different, but we somehow get each other.

"How are you?"

The question is almost passive-aggressive. Even if I were to answer Seiji-san, I know he won't take my response lightly. He's already formulating a plan to get something out of me because I know his tactics, oh too well.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Great."

"Sorry I haven't been around much. I've been busy." So he's using another form of attack. As I said before, we used to be close but when KOD reached its peak, the company inevitably grew and Seiji focused hard on running the label. He's done a good job, but sometimes I kinda miss when we were a small label and he was there, driving us, encouraging us to get better. We were the first band in his label because he _knew_ we'd be successful. That's what he always says. "And you know my family, they're crazy."

I laugh. It's funny to think that his children are already almost in their teens now. He's done a good job. He always does. The label started off poor, and I wondered how he even managed to put food on the table for his young family. Yet, his wife and him stuck through it. It amazes me how his marriage, his family life, is going strong despite all the setbacks Seiji had to deal with.

"I don't know how you do it."

"You will one day," Seiji tells me.

I doubt it. "Won't be happening any time soon."

I have my reservations about marriage, having come from parents who had divorced when I was a kid. How do people tolerate being with another person long enough? How does one commit? I'd be blessed to even be in a relationship, with the both of us trusting each other. I wouldn't want to get married, but I'd be fortunate enough to have somebody on my side. That's all I'd want. Sealing the deal and slapping a ring on a finger didn't sit well in my stomach.

"Jun told me Taichi eloped."

I roll my eyes. "Sometimes I wish Jun would shut up."

"Hey, she's our biggest fangirl," Seiji laughs. "Don't speak badly of her. You liked her once upon a time."

"Maybe, but not that deep enough. If I had, maybe she wouldn't have turned lesbian on me."

It's Seiji's turn to roll his eyes. "Yamato, she's been revealing signs of her orientation from the very beginning. Anyway, putting Jun aside, you don't seem too content about Taichi getting married."

"He could have told me," I mutter. "But it's not that that bothers me, it's just promising to someone that you'll be there for them forever...it doesn't feel right. Things can go wrong. People leave. People have a change of heart."

There's a bitter taste in my mouth as I remember turning back, watching as mother left with Takeru holding her hand, as I parted the opposite direction with my dad. Adults can be selfish too. Why commit to each other when they can't keep a promise? If they had lost feelings for each other, why drag it out long, why make everybody else around you suffer?

"But sometimes it's worth taking the risk," Seiji replies, glancing at his ring finger, as he puts it against the light. "I don't regret it. It's the best decision I made in my life."

"I'm still worried about Taichi."

This is Taichi we're talking about. I've known him since forever. I remember him fighting with his mother about now wanting to take his soccer jersey off (despite the horrible stench). I remember him crying when his favourite soccer team would lose. I remember him sneaking a bottle of beer into my locker when KOD announced our debut. I remember him almost breaking my guitar, and not talking to him for weeks over it.

I remember how it took him decades to snip some of his unruly hair. I remember him buying his first suit when he got accepted to this well renowned company, that was stationed throughout the globe. I remember how he had transformed, how he grew up. How he stopped sleeping around, found a girl to commit to, and ended up marrying her. How this foolish, idiot guy got married...I don't know. I wish the best for him, but the concept of marriage is something I don't think I'll ever grasp.

"And Takashi?" Of course Seiji needs to mention the former lead guitarist.

"He hates me," I say. "But of course I'm worried about him."

"You haven't visited him lately."

"Maybe you haven't just been taking tabs on me," I snort. "More like stalking me, right Mr. CEO?"

"Yamato-kun," Seiji sighs. "Can't you just take my advice. As well as not visiting Takashi, I know you've ignored my warning about not seeking Makoto-sensei out. You need to talk to him."

"How would you know what I need?" I glare.

I care about Seiji to a certain extent, but why is he so bothered about Takashi now? Takashi had always displayed signs of drug abuse and everybody had turned a blind eye to it. And, admittedly, I had to. And now too? He's choosing to step back into my life, to meddle, to try and 'fix' me? I've had enough sessions with Makoto-sensei to know that some things just aren't fixable.

"I'm trying to help you."

I stand up, not looking back when I stalk away. "Don't."

It's only when I'm out the studio, striding down the street that my shoulders start to shake. My vision becomes clearer, and I realise that how I acted to Seiji wasn't right. I had lost control of my anger in that moment, not something that I usually do...and even so, I had taken it out on Seiji.

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* * *

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By night time I've cooled off, and am more level headed. I had even messaged Seiji an apology for my abruptness. As planned, I meet up with Taichi and Mimi at the Batting Cage.

The pair had arrived back to Tokyo a few days ago. I wanted to catch up with them to congratulate them. I may not completely be 'for' marriages, but in the end of the day it's my best friend and close friend who have gotten married. I can't be a sour thumb about it. Koushiro couldn't make it, so I was under the impression that it would just be three of us...until I see Sora.

It's been two weeks since I've last seen her. And maybe it's a good thing. I've been working my ass off, finding ways to get distracted. Maybe I've been over-exerting myself? Who knows, but I do know it feels better than thinking too much about things I don't want to think about. Sora looks the same as ever, a constant norm. Almost predictable from her mannerisms, from the way she bites her bottom lip, to the light blush that sprinkles her cheeks from the beers she's consumed. She laughs at Mimi, rolls her eyes whenever Taichi says something over-the-top.

She looks natural and simple, donned in casual clothing, and not over-doing her appearance to make her stand out. She's cute like that. And, even if she were to dress up, it's her fiery hair that makes her stand out, that and her long legs (yeah, I always notice this about her, alright?) and the natural, casual yet cute clothing she's got on. Nice tight jeans, runners and a loose white shirt tied at the front. I think Sora's just one of those women that can pull off any look and appear great.

"Hey guys!" I smile. I give Mimi a kiss on the cheek, punching Taichi on the arm, and awkwardly giving Sora a side-hug. "Congratulations! Sorry I'm late."

"Work, Yamato?" Mimi asks. She's glowing, smile kind. Whatever happened in Okinawa did well for the both of them. There's less tension on Taichi's shoulders and he doesn't look like the mess I had to look after when he had been living with me prior to his flight to Okinawa.

"Yeah, you could say that." I scratch the back of me head. "You had work too, Sora?"

She nods. Something tells me she hadn't expected just my presence too. The four of us have never hung out, which is kind of surprising since we're both the newly wedded couple's best friends. In a way, it was bound to happen eventually. Because it's late, she accompanies Mimi to the cashier to buy us games.

Taichi and I save seats near the slowest batting cage. He whistles, leaning back on his chair. "You're pissed off at me, aren't you?"

"No shit." I snort, "You could have told me."

"Would you come flying to Okinawa the next day if I had?"

"No," I reply, truthfully. I'll never be as spontaneous as Taichi, not when I'm working.

"You would have been my best man, you know?"

"Of course," I reply. I observe him. His skin is darker, tanned. Almost as dark as he used to be when he spent too many hours playing on the soccer field. His eyes are brighter, and his toothy simper is too bright that it makes me feel like squinting. However, it's good to see him this content. It's been a while since I've seen him like this, and any mood is better than when he's grouchy and sulking. I knew that when Taichi started to date Mimi, it had potential to be a long term relationship. "I'm happy for you, man."

His grin becomes wider. He leans closer to me and dangles this cheap-looking keyring of a miniature beer can. "I know, that's why I got you this omiyage."

"That's cheap," I say, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Don't be so ungrateful!" Taichi exclaims. "Do you know how much time I spent deliberating what to get you?"

"You know it's cheap," I state, not taking his bullshit excuses.

"Not as cheap as my love for you. Thanks for buying those tickets to Okinawa. I really owe it to you." Taichi shifts closer to me, arms falling around my waist as he gives me a suffocating embrace. I try to shove him off.

Mimi looks at us, sending us a withering glare. "You guys are so immature. Get a room."

"I never approved of your husband getting all smitten with me," I grumble, using Mimi as a distraction to finally push Taichi away from me. Taichi whispers in my ear, "But honey..."

I step on his foot. "Fuck off."

Sora's laughing in that calming, lilting voice she has. She's wearing this deep-blue beaded bracelet that wasn't on her wrist earlier. She must have gotten omiyage from Mimi too. I comment that her present is better than mine, and Taichi and I begin round two of our hopeless bantering.

In the end, Sora and I find out the reason why it's just the two of us is because Mimi and Taichi wanted to personally thank us for getting them back together, for being their best friends, and all that sappy stuff that is rare for them to ever say out loud. It's something I could do without considering it's already awkward enough, and having Sora here makes it more awkward. Though, I have to say, at least I'm not the only one enduring all this lovey-dovey shit that Mimi and Taichi are doing. They're all cuddly and have heart-shaped eyes. That's one of the things I hate when I'm with the two of them, they never can keep their touchy-feely mood for private time.

Mimi announces that they're paying for dinner. It's a late dinner, consisting of hot dogs and whatever cheap things food you can get from the Batting Cage. Sora speaks up what's on my mind, "Because it's cheap?"

"Don't make is sound _that_ bad," Mimi pouts as she covers for herself and her cheap husband, "Taichi and I have _just_ come back from a holiday. You should be glad that we have discounts here."

I give my input, "Not only is it cheap, but they're _also_ using vouchers. I wanted it to be a five-star restaurant. What do you think, Sora? This isn't fair. We should bring them to court and file a case against them for all the times they've abused our hospitality, goodwill and charity-"

Taichi kicks me, raising his middle finger at me. I guffaw in response.

We finally commence the game, with Taichi and Mimi composing one team and Sora and I making the other. Taichi goes up first without asking anybody, but I mock him when the ball grazes his bat, not managing to hit one single ball.

I go up next. I may be bad at every sport listed under the sun, but baseball is one of the only sports I can actually brag about. Maybe that was why Taichi picked the batting cage. He knows it's the only activity I wouldn't mind doing (and because it's cheaper that a restaurant too, of course). Besides, whenever Taichi, Mimi or I hang out, we're not into going to expensive, fancy places. Our friendship is basically based on being cheap.

I swing the bat, hitting the baseball at a pretty good distance. I smile, turning back to finding Taichi scowling, Mimi giggling and Sora jumping animatedly from her seat, whistling and cheering. She gives me a high-five. She cheers – more like gloats – to Taichi, "We're winning!"

Taichi crosses his arms, "Who cares? We're not competing anyway..."

I snicker when Sora sticks her tongue out at him. "I care. You're going down, Yagami!"

Mimi goes up after, failing to land a hit too. When she gets back to the seats, she mentions she's going to hit the toilet. When I look back at the cage, it's Sora's turn to shine. I can tell she hasn't played much baseball as she attempts to find her footing, and which stance is correct. From the corner of my eye, I see some middle-aged businessmen sitting at the next booth, checking her out as she bends down to kick one of the baseballs away from the matt she is standing on. I glare at them.

"You have a type," Taichi breaks my thoughts.

I lean back on the chair, peeling my eyes away from Sora, trying to appear indifferent. "I do?"

"You like women who put you in your place. Who tell you off, call you out when you're acting like an asshole. You like the dark, dangerous women."

"Really now?" I say, wondering where this conversation is going. It's funny when Taichi tries to judge me. Sometimes he's completely off the mark, other times he's literally on point.

"Like Kaori."

This captures my attention. My eyes level with Taichi, silently questioning where he is going with this. It's unlike him to bring her up. I don't think he ever really has since the year she passed away. He knows how much it had hurt me, and instead of getting me to talk about her, he had been the friend that took me out to drink, to help me forget. Like he owed it to me for getting back with Mimi, I owed it to Taichi for getting me back on my feet back then.

Taichi gestures subtly at Sora. "She's not dark."

"I know she isn't," I quietly reply.

"She's not your type...but you like her."

I keep quiet. I'm not confirming what he says is true. And even if I deny it, I know that I do like her – and Taichi knows that too. Sora's one of those good girls, those girls that don't need to be dragged down by people like me.

"She's quite innocent," Taichi continues. I disagree with him on this one, especially when I can still can see her under my sheets, moaning and whimpering, auburn hair brushing against my skin as our bodies had entangled with each other. I don't say that one out loud, of course. Sora may seem innocent, but she's still a woman and she's not completely that oblivious with what is happening around her. Taichi goes on, "She's like a sister to me and if you hurt her..."

"I know," I sigh. I know where Taichi's trying to get at. This is bro's code now; this is Taichi granting me permission. I know Taichi's position because it's exactly how I see Hikari. If somebody were to hurt Hikari, not only will it be Takeru or Taichi running to her case, but they would have to deal with me as well.

We leave it at that. I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders that Taichi has finally suspected what's been going on between Sora and I. It had been hard to man up and tell him about her, how I felt about her, especially if I wasn't so sure myself. I may like her; but I didn't know if she viewed me that way, and I couldn't force her to like me either.

Soon enough, it's Sora's turn again. She's still fidgeting, trying to find the correct position to hit the ball. "Straighten your back!" I call out to her.

She seems to still be struggling, so I get up. Taichi gives me a nod and Mimi smirks when I slide into the batting cage. I'm close to her, and I can feel her hair tickle my neck. I reposition her arms, placing it higher as she grips onto the bat. She trembles and I can't help but smile. I step closer to her, readjusting the helmet.

"That's better. Trust me, this will help you land it." She doesn't reply, so I tease her, "Do you need me to demonstrate how to do it, and to hold you from behind?"

Her cheeks are redder and I bite down a chuckle as she gets my hidden message. She pushes me out of the batting area, eyes glaring, voice flustered as she splutters, "You're distracting me. Get out."

When I sit back next to Taichi, Mimi folds her arms. "Seriously Yamato?"

I shrug, while Taichi openly guffaws. Before Mimi starts to give me an earful, I hear the baseball connect with the bat. Sora's hit has reached the end of the field. She jumps up and down in excitement, "I HIT IT!"

After a few more hits, the married couple call it a night. Sora seems still hyper from her successful hit, that I end up paying for one more game. Baseball can get addictive, especially when you're in the batting cage. You might miss quite a few balls, but when you manage to hit that one ball you feel like a champion. And, from how Sora's acting, I know she's having a good time. She's smiling non-stop, and I can't help but feel contented staring at her. I haven't felt this good for ages. Is it possible for somebody to impact you so much from just being with them? I wonder, because whenever Sora's kept me company everything feels so much lighter...

We're at the Baseball Cage until close. The workers are sending us glances to leave, so we take their hint and depart from the venue. Shibuya is as crowded as ever, and now that I've got my a mask over my mouth, it feels more suffocating. I'm not as popular as I used to be, but I still like taking precautions. The media loves any form of gossip, and it's something I've always wanted to ensure I avoid...especially on my down time. I hate getting my private friends or family involved in the public eye.

Sora speaks up, "So bye then?"

It doesn't feel right leaving like this. We've had a good time, but if she wants to close this night...so be it. I think I've already given her already more than enough hints for her to be aware that I'm interested, and sometimes it can't be just me making the moves.

Tilting my head back, I stare at her, "Taking the train?"

"Yeah." She checks her wrist watch. "The last train will be in ten minutes."

We farewell each other and because she's keeping her distance, and not making the effort to approach me, I make a fool out of myself and bow at her instead. _Real smooth Yamato..._

At a metre, I turn around and watch her walk further from me, gradually disappearing in the crowds of people. I feel hesitant, but I don't want her to go. I want to spend more time with her. I don't know when I'll see her next, and I don't know if I'll get this opportunity again. Kaori will have to forgive me. Is it selfish that I want one more shot at happiness? Will Kaori forgive me? I don't know...

But I can't let this go, I'll regret it.

So I take a chance and chase after her.

"SORA!"

She pivots on her heels, gazing at me. Her facial expression looks hopeful, like she had wanted me to call out to her, like she wants me to be with her as much as I want to be her too. I must look a fool, back bent, hands on my knees as I gasp for air. I breathe out, "Do you want to grab a drink?"

"Where did you have in mind, Yamato?" she smiles softly. The kind of smile that makes me doubt my sanity. A beautiful smile, that's purpose is to make you speechless.

It's then that I know that I'm screwed. I may not deserve her, but I'm willing to take a chance, I'm willing to put up fight against the tides that keep pushing me down. I'm ready to move on.

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 **(a/n)** teddy loves her by meg and dia. go check that song out. this song was always going to accompany this chapter, ever since the first chp of lifelines. (i'm a big meg & dia fan). i don't usually recommend songs, but it's only fitting for this chapter. haha. i wanted this out earlier, but alas..here it is. happy new year :) i'll shift back to bittersweet catastrophe now. thanks for reading :)


	19. chapter eighteen: crevices of light

_ignite a match_

 _she leans in to catch it_

 _we're the only spark in the dark_

 _like a chandelier with no_

 _ceiling but the sky_.

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cigarette - offonoff (ft. tablo & miso)

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 **[LIFELINES]**

chapter eighteen: **c** revices **o** f **l** ight

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* * *

. ****SMUT ALERT****

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I know that I can be hard to read (Taichi always calls me out on this), but how clear do I have to be? Sora can't be this oblivious to know why I've asked her out, why I can't let her go out of my sights. Or can she? I know I'm not that oblivious to ignore the sexual tension, the friction between us. However, can't she there's much more than that?

Hanging out together on multiple occasions has been albeit spontaneous, though natural and it has made us get to know each other. Our whatever-you-call-this relationship has grown and transformed into something much more, into something the both of us keep avoiding to admit.

But I could sense the hesitation in the taxi, how she would sneak side glances at my direction. She had looked nervous and jittery, constantly smoothing the creases on her lap as we drove to the Grand Hyatt. I don't get why though. We've done more than some people have, we've skipped to third base, so for me to take her out for a drink...did it seem impossible, was I lousy company for her to even retrace her steps and take it slow? Or have we already fucked this up?

Regardless, she's still here. She could have refused and left, but she had played along and decided to accompany me to the hotel. I hadn't known where else to take her, and I felt comfortable at the hotel because it had been KOD's safe spot, Yutaka's workplace, and the penthouse was there to crash whenever need be.

Though, Sora doesn't seem to like it here. I'm disheartened, but it's probably my own fault for not thinking it through. She doesn't feel at ease as she sips her tequila sunrise. Her eyes are darting all over the place, and on occasion I have seen her look down at her getup. Yes, I had been thoughtful. She's insecure about what she's wearing because I've taken her to a glammed hotel without prior notice.

 _Great move, Yamato. She'll never want you to ask her out again._

We do small talk, but she avoids my questions when I tease her whether she wants this to be a date. By how she acts, I wonder how many people she's rejected in the past - or if she fails to pick up the cues when people hit on her. I'm really trying here, but she keeps shutting me down. Or maybe I need to be more obvious...but how obvious _can_ I be?

"...I'm paying double for a decent drink!" she huffs out when the bartender is not within hearing distance.

Of course she switches the conversation by complaining about the drinks. I kind of almost regret asking her out. I should have planned this. I should asked Taichi for advice, her likes, her interests, her favourite cuisine. God, I'm an idiot.

Somehow our talk backfires, and she's got me talking boring stuff about myself, how I like the hotel because I feel comfortable here, and nobody gawks or pays attention to me as much as when I'm out in the public eye.

I explain, "Most guests are foreigners, so sometimes I get mistaken for one too. And because nobody recognises me, I'm not hassled as much. I get to be alone."

"You like being left alone?"

Now she's interpreting my statement like I'm trying to act cool and be a lone wolf or something. I'm not. It's just how I really feel. "Prior to the band I liked it. Though, after a while, I did become lonely as well, since being on my own too much was unhealthy too. Having friends like Taichi does help because it's almost impossible to remain a hermit. I'm thankful for him a lot. Don't tell him I said that."

"Noted. I could say the same about Mimi," she laughs prettily. Pinky sticking in the air, she holds up her glass and declares, "Cheers for getting them back together."

I cheers her, staring at her warm eyes as they dance in amusement before gulping down the remainder of my scotch and coke. We're not denying that we didn't extend a helping hand to getting our best friends back together. If we're to constantly deal with them and their absurdities, I'm lucky that I've got Sora now to assist me when they get out of control. It's nice that I finally know that I have somebody else to rely on, another person who can actually scold Taichi and Mimi as much as I do.

Flagging down the bartender, I order Sora another drink.

We keep talking. There's just something how she speaks. How she's witty, has subtle sarcasm that's easy to miss, and she's interesting, yet kind. She worries about her job, how her boss will cope (I'd be worried about becoming unemployed, yet she's more concerned about her manager), how Mimi pisses her off despite how much she loves her, how her mother is pressuring her to get married, how she admires my dedication to my work. There are moments where I zone out, when I'd simply watch her. How she'd tilt her back when she'd laugh, the small mole she rubs on her wrist when she catches me intently staring at her, and how her eyes would linger at my lips.

I'm cradling my head on the table, as she fills me in on this story about Taichi making a fool out of himself (I always love these type of stories because they make good blackmail), and it's then the pianist winks at me.

When Sora and I had arrived at the hotel, he had been making faces at me the whole time. I had done well to ignore him, but now I can't - not when he's put Frank Sinatra's 'Fly M _e To The Moon_ ' which is my one of favourite songs that I'd use to practice over and over again on my guitar during rehearsals. Yutaka knows this, which is why he's playing it intentionally - the moron. It's probably the only song he can use to tease me since his setlist consists of all jazzy tunes.

Sora looks over her shoulder when she sees me staring at Yutaka in the distance. She gapes when he winks for the second time. "Did-did he just?" She pauses when she notices me chuckling. "You know him?"

I fill her in how on how I know him. She nods, listening to me. As the song changes to another instrumental jazz piece that I don't recognise, I watch as she gazes down into the tequila sunrise, long eyelashes touching her skin. I want to suddenly hold her. It could be the alcohol. I had more than a few, but I know it's not. I've already used alcohol as an excuse before, and I know that even without the influence of liquor, I'd want to put my hands around her waist, I'd want to feel her close.

"What?" she says, feeling my gaze.

Shuffling the stool closer to her, she tenses slightly. Are we going to keep going around in circles? I won't allow it. I can't. I had taken the courage to ask her out for a drink, and I know I can't let this go. Not now. I like her, and I know that I can't be tangled in Kaori's grasp forever. I can't let my first love stop me forever, not when somebody like Sora here. Somebody I've grown to care about, to have feelings for.

I ask Sora why she hasn't answered my question about whether she still wants this to be a date. She tries to deflect the question, but I'm determined this time. I won't let this go until she replies to me.

She bites her bottom lip. "Does it have to be a date?"

Really? I furrow my eyebrows. Why does she have to make this confusing? Why are women difficult? It's clear as day I like her, and I'm not stupid enough to notice that she cares about me too...somewhat. She's scared. I get that...though aren't all risky things scary? She might doubt me, but I'll prove it to her. I hope I can. It's just frustrating because I want her to take a chance, I want to hear her say it too. Though, maybe it'll take a while for her to admit to us.

I'm still not letting this go though.

"Let it be a date then." Her expression on her face peels into panic, but I speak over her before she can interrupt, "We can try it, Sora. We'll take it slow and, maybe, start seeing each other first…"

She erupts, "Haven't we passed the dating stage? We've _slept_ together, Yamato. This isn't romantic at all!"

Yeah, definitely panicking. I try not to laugh because I know it'll make it worse. I quip back, "Do you want me to be more romantic then?"

"No. Just... _no!_ " she splutters. The simper that I have on slides off my face as I begin to laugh. So much for holding it in. I mutter, "You're really against this, aren't you?"

She hits me on the arm as she complains, and keeps stumbling on her words in absolute dread, "Yes! No! I'm not sure! I don't know. You're confusing me. I'm not ready for this...and-are you even being sincere about this?"

For somebody who is usually cool, Sora's lost it. She was the one who labelled our first mistake as an accident, a one-off...but she hadn't stopped my advances, and I hadn't stopped hers. We've been waltzing around the subject enough. And by her losing her cool, it only confirms that I'm not wrong to know that she at _least_ shares some similar feelings towards me - and it's a small hint, but it's something that I'll desperately take.

I keep gazing at her as I extend my arm, holding her small hand into mine. Grazing my thumb against her skin, coercing, I quietly promise something more that she is to frightened to think about. I continue the pattern, looking into her eyes as she tries to make sense of what I've spilled out to her.

She finally reacts, swiping her hand away from me. I'm kind of hurt by this, but I let her talk, "That's impossible! H...how can you like somebody like me? _Why_ would you want to try dating me? Don't you have a bigger list of girls to choose from? I-I'm not good enough for you!"

"Come on, Sora. If anything, I'm the one that's not good for you," I chuckle, but it's true.

Sora's an angel compared to me. And by her being with me, I feel like I'll taint her...though, it's a risk I'm willing to take. I don't know why she thinks like that, or why her self-esteem seems to have suddenly plummeted. She's beautiful. She's entertaining to be around. Anybody can fall for somebody like her. I've seen men cast looks at her direction when we're out, even know there are some men eying her down. Although in a shirt and jeans, she's attractive but she can't see that. It's like how she's failing to believe that I like her. Who knew confessing could be so hard?

She says it isn't funny. I pluck up the tiny amount of courage to try again. I might as well keep trying until she gets fed up with me and actually leaves. I just want an answer because the more we play these games, the more complicated it will get between us and our mutual friends.

"...there's no harm trying, right? If it doesn't work; it doesn't work. And if it'll work, then I'll be damned."

She's leering back at her cocktail, not looking at me anymore. "Damn right."

"Sorry," I sigh, apologising. "I'm new to this. I haven't properly dated somebody for over five years so I'm sorry if I'm an amateur or, maybe, even too bold for your liking. It's been a while since I've actually asked somebody out properly…"

And subsequently, she brings up Jun again. This is getting fucking annoying. Does she really think I'm just the average fuckboy? I mean, maybe I did deserve the stereotype. I hadn't been clear with Sora from the beginning because I hadn't known what I wanted from her. The more we kept making mistakes, the more I slowly fell for her. However, this time it's all on her - and she's the one that continues to chicken in and out with me because it seems that maybe she only finds me as a good fuck. So wouldn't that make her the fuck girl considering she's the one that really is _fucking_ up with my head right now.

I put it back on her. "Haven't you been the one using me? To be honest, maybe it's me the one who is getting played? Don't you remember, you _did_ say you want to get laid during one of our insightful conversations." I keep digging my own grave, "Besides, if we try seeing each other, it will save us from finding other people to sleep with…"

" _Yamato!_ " Sora hits my arm again, but I ignore the dull ache.

She's really good at this game. She really is. I laugh, but it sounds fake even to me. If she keeps pushing me around like this, what am I to do? Am I this desperate to take all the chances I can with her, even if she might not even like me the way I want her to? Is there a point in this?

I say, "What do you say? Should we try it?"

Call me a desperate fuck, but I just want to be with her. Everything I do appears to be hypocritical tonight. Do you blame me though? Sora's driving me insane and I can't step away from her. I take my chances, using her silence to make a move. I grasp her wrist, lifting her hand off the counter and pressing it against my back as I lean in, waiting for her answer.

Her breathing his ragged as she looks back at me, debating what's the right answer in her mind. I'm so sure she'll shake me off, like she's done so many times, and leave, so it shocks me when she breathes out defeat, "It'll just be a few dates."

Sora kisses me lightly on the neck. I hold back a groan, licking my lips as I slowly let my hand creep up her thigh. I whisper, lowly, "Should we seal the deal then?" I tilt her chin upwards, placing my lips over hers.

She doesn't protest.

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* * *

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We've given up on verbal battles. We're attacking each other on top of the sheets, our naked bodies entwined as our needs surpass our thoughts.

She makes me feel whole. She makes the demons crawl away from the crevices in my mind. She's a lifeline, a person who can possibly save me from myself.

These thoughts disappear when she whispers into my ear.

Her voice is silky, her moans cause me to quiver. Auburn hair rubbing against my chest, we continue to frantically match each other, then there would be periods when we'd descend to slower paces that would make me groan in ecstasy. She'd smirk at my awed face when she'd get on top of me, grinding her pelvis into mine. Then she'd be on the sheets, gasping in laughter, bottom raised as I'd pound her from behind. The mirrors in the penthouse, reflected our lust-filled faces, layered in perspiration and dirty euphoria.

It's rough; it's fun. Maybe because there finally was some clarity, a form of agreement between us.

"Do you want some whisky?" she questions me, after I've rolled off her. I nod, laying back first into the mattress, kicking off the sheets that cover half of my body because it's hot to fully have them on and I'm too sweaty.

I stare blankly up at the ceiling as I regain my breath back. I'm spent. Sora has more energy than I do. Her stamina is something that still astounds me. Just when I think it's over, we'd go for another round. Maybe it's because she's more of an athlete than I'll ever be. (Taichi still mocks my physical education school reports).

Leaning onto my side, I lazily watch her naked back as she kneels down to snatch something from the mini bar. She comes back to my side without a glass, just the small glass bottle of whisky and a mischievous smile. I raise my eyebrow at her. In response she unscrews the lid and takes a sip of the whisky. All of a sudden, her lips crash into mine. I gape in surprise, feeling the whisky burn down my throat, almost choking me. I recover, melting into her as she climbs back on top of me while not allowing the momentum of her kisses to cease - the cheeky little thing.

I grin into the kiss, my right hand gripping onto the small of her back. Between gasps of air, I say, "Do you want dessert?"

"Hm?" She hums, eyes filled with both suspicion and enticement. "What kind of dessert?"

Not replying, I reach for the phone and call room service. Sticky date pudding. She giggles into my chest, and somehow I can't help but dream and wish that this won't ever end, that we'll keep being like this together. I throw on my boxers, hoping my arousal is at bay as I pick up the dessert from the room service man. Before he can gawk at us, I slam the door in front of his face.

"That's rude, Yamato," Sora says, despite her voice laced with amusement.

I reply, "It took him long."

"No, it wasn't long at all," she argues back.

"Oh really?" I say. The plate of sticky date pudding is still in my grasp as I straddle her. Her eyes look up at me in wonder and I emit a chuckle. "Did you reckon I'd let you get away with that whisky trick?"

She swallows when I pour warm caramel sauce across her torso and chest. Her breathing heightens, both nipples erect. The pudding, I place just below her hips and because she's still sensitive, her body lightly pushes upwards towards me. She moans, "You jerk- _uh..._ "

Her words are cut short as I lick around her buds, tongue hungrily trailing down to the pudding. She can't keep still, eyes slightly rolling backwards as the pudding disintegrates as I eat it away. Sora shoves her head further back into the pillow when my tongue delves into her folds. I stare at her through hooded eyes as she rides out her arousal. God, she's hot. Her hands clutch onto my hair, pushing me closer between her long legs, and it's only when she's climaxed that she lets go.

I pull her back onto mine. She's too tired to object, as she lies down on me. She grumbles, "Are we going to sleep together every time we go out on a date?"

Playing with her hair, I murmur, "I'll take you somewhere nicer."

She insists that this penthouse is amazing enough, remarking how crazy it is that I own it. I correct her, and explain that the penthouse belongs to all of KOD since the band had split the cost between the four of us, and how we have to text when a member is using it so it doesn't get double-booked.

 _Ding Dong._

Ironically, straight after I've explained it Sora the terms of how KOD use the penthouse, I remember never really checking my phone after I had informed the boys I'd be using it. Sora and I had been in too much of an aroused frenzy for me to think straight, that once we had left the bar and taken the elevator the highest floor everything in the outside remained in the outside world. For me, everything had been encompassed around Sora.

And, as I check my phone, I note Yutaka's teasing message that he had seen Sora and I making out at the bar. When I hadn't replied, it was followed with a message 'I'll come in to check on your prior to my morning shift then'.

The doorbell sounding again makes Sora leap into action. She's rolled off me and is making her way towards the bathroom, hips swaying. I throw her clothes. She catches it just before it lands onto the ground, and before she disappears into the bathroom, I call out, "You don't need to hide, you know?"

" _Right_ ," Sora rolls her eyes at me, cheeks pink. She locks the bathroom door.

Groaning, I make myself presentable and throw my boxers back on. The doorbell sounds again. "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming. I'm coming," I shout, exasperated at the lack of patience the pianist has. He's usually patient, but I know him too well, and how he most likely wants to catch me red-handed with Sora so that he can poke around and make fun of me; the damn cockblocker.

Yutaka steps in before I completely open the door, pushing me aside as he strides around the penthouse, scouting around the area for any signs, or any trace of her. "Jun's here?" he ridicules, knowing the right words to get under my skin even though we both know it's Sora who is hiding.

I bite back and tell him that Jun is no longer single (he knows this, but it doesn't stop me from saying it again), then he counters it's because Jun likes girls and how it's my fault because I was an ass to her. How much money I'd give to pay him to shut up right now. Seriously, this nosey asshole needs to fuck off. Breathe in. Breathe out. If I lose my temper, I know how quick Yutaka can send a message to Satou or Seiji, and use this situation for his own benefit. He's just doing this to piss me off; and he's doing a good job at it, mind you. He knows what's going on, he just wants me to admit it. I've dropped Sora's name to him occasionally, so he knows that Sora just isn't a typical one-night stand. She's more than that.

I point out that he shouldn't be here, since I made it clear that the penthouse was mine overnight. Of course, he doesn't care as he proceeds to inspect further around the penthouse.

Finger resting on his chin, he smirks, "After seeing you all smitten with that woman last night, I thought I'd sniff out the crime scene - now let's see the damage." He pauses, and takes his time to exaggerate, and make theatrics about everything. "Ah yes...upside-down chairs, unkempt bed sheets, hickeys on your neck? Wow, Yamato. Looks like you _were_ busy. So, where is she?"

I bare my teeth at him, "Nowhere."

"There's no point lying to me, Yamato."

When Yutaka searches under the bed, I massage my temples. Can't he just leave me at peace? This guy is so darn frustrating. I make a shit excuse, saying that she isn't here. However, Yutaka states that he saw another pair of sneakers by the door that didn't belong to me. Yutaka really _does_ want to catch me.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," I heave out, under my breath, when I see him knock on the bathroom door. He then speaks to Sora from behind the door, "It's lovely to meet your acquaintance, Miss Mysterious Lady."

Sora ruins our helpless and utterly hopeless plan of being inconspicuous, by replying to Yutaka, "Yeah-um... _hi_?"

Yutaka points at the bathroom door, wiggling his eyebrows at me. I face-palm. This is great. Absolute _fucking_ great. "It's nice to meet you, even if you are behind a door. Yamato must be serious about you."

Sora giggles, but I've had it. I want him out. If he wants to crash some party, he can crash another time - but not now when's it morning and I'd rather Sora be my only company, _not_ with a pianist who only wants to give me shit.

"Shit, Yamato! That hurts. What are you doin-"

"Get out!" I growl, kicking him and using my arms to push him out of the door that he came in from. He screams that he'll catch Sora another time. I hope that never happens.

Yutaka's chuckling throughout the time he gets from one side of the room to the other. He even bows when I shut the door on his face. I hope I don't have to do it for the third time today. I also hope he doesn't mention this to the other boys because I know I will never hear the end of it.

When he's finally gone, I lock the door and head back towards. The door's open, so I peak in and check on Sora. I could wait longer for her to come out, but I find myself already behind her, embracing her from behind. Seems like I really can't lose her out of my sight...I've really fallen hard, haven't I?

But she does something that startles me - she starts crying.

I ask her what's wrong, she denies it at first, but after a bit more encouragement, she spills everything. "I think you're treating me too well. Is it because I'm Taichi's friend? Is it your guilty conscience that you have to fake date me so that you can eventually dump me? I'm not your casual hook up-"

"Hey, didn't I tell you already?" I comfort her. "I want to start something with you. Even if we take it slow and start seeing each other…"

"Which is why it's weird! Why would you want to see _me_? How do you even trust me? You don't even _know_ me yet."

She's still on this page? She reckons I'm just fucking around? I wonder why she even thinks this way. I never said anything about just wanting to sleep with her just because. I never admitted to anything of that. And even if I don't know _everything_ about her, I'm willing to get to know her more. Is she _this_ scared to be with me; to take a chance? Here I thought I was the one with commitment issues, but maybe it's been her all along.

And, knowing that she won't take a simple answer, I get into detail as much as I can so that her worries would be brushed aside, and then perhaps, she could at least _try_ to trust me.

"I know that you're not one of those women who'll cling onto me for money or fame. Hell, you don't even know the name to any of my songs. And, to me, you're attractive because you're independent and you're always looking out for others. Not to mention, you're kinda hot even in casual clothing. You're you." I sigh, kissing her collarbone as I can feel her staring at me by the mirror. "You think and are doubtful of being with me, but I think it should be the other way around. You're the one who is _too_ good for me."

"Mimi's got a bigger bust."

That's her reply, and that makes me guffaw out loud. Seriously? This woman. I spin her around so that she'd directly facing me. Her eyes are slightly pink, biting onto her bottom lip as she looks at me, scowling.

"And you've got some weird sense of humour too, Takenouchi."

Sora retorts, "She still has a bigger bust."

I kiss her forehead, trying not to laugh too much. "Mimi isn't the one I'm interested in," I say gently, drawing her nearer to me, placing my arms around her as my left hand goes further south. She lets out a soft moan. "She may have a bigger bust, but you have a _finer_ ass."

"You're so lame." She rolls her eyes at me, but she doesn't push me away. "Perhaps this is why we've stayed single for quite a long time."

Somehow this leads us talking about our previous relationships. It's something I don't really like addressing, but I'm sure that applies to anybody who talks about their exes with the girl they're potentially going out with. My history is a bit more complex, and complicated to others. So I keep it minimal. It's too soon to give Sora the full story about Kaori. Even bring up her name makes my mood drop, and guilt resurfaces. Sora and Kaori are two very different people, that even put in the same room...I don't think they'd get along.

When Sora chatters about her ex, I can tell she's still hurting. Her eyes are dimmer, smile forced. It's only recent compared to me. A year and a half since her separation. Whoever this guy was, she must have loved him deeply. She admits to it when I voice my thoughts out loud.

Sora comments, "I'm sure a part of you loves your first girlfriend too."

I stiffen at that, and I know she could feel it too. It's a comment I'm not used to being brought up. I close my eyes. "Always."

But right now it isn't about Kaori. It's about Sora. Kaori was my past, and Sora...I hope that maybe she can be my present, my future.

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 **(a/n)** Quick update because I want to write a couple of scenes that happened that we're mentioned in Bittersweet Catastrophe, but contributed to future scenes in Bittersweet (before I close that story). These scenes will make more sense with Bittersweet, or at least I'm hoping they will..as we had only seen it through Sora's POV. Anyway...no real content here, well, some...but not really. ;) Idk if it's real believable to write from Yamato's POV at times, since I'm a female. So it's weird.

Anyway, gotta go now because I need to get ready for work. Will reply to reviews tonight xox


	20. chapter nineteen: muted music

_you are the smell before rain;_

 _you are the blood in my veins_

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the boy who blocked his own shot - brand new

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 **[LIFELINES]**

chapter nineteen: **m** uted **m** usic

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There's something both homely and wearing being in this office. My skin is prickling with nerves as I lean back onto the chair, taking in the familiar surrounding. It's as if I've been summoned to the principal's office for misbehaving, only this thought cannot be applicable as I'm beyond my adolescent years.

Things have changed in this office, while things haven't. However, what remains the same, is the urge to want to leave. It's not that I dislike Makoto; it's just the tumble of memories that flow back into mind from the countless sessions I've been here, when I had been so lost in myself that I didn't know it was possible to climb out of my own darkness.

"I'm good," I say, gazing away from his scrutiny.

I hate it when Makoto stares at me like that unblinkingly. His eyes look like they're seeping through me, dissecting and examining me inside-out. Makoto _is_ a therapist after all. He's always had a talent for that, rummaging through my thoughts, my mannerisms, making me speak out things I don't want to say, and using it against me. It's not like he doesn't mean well. Don't get me wrong, this man is a miracle worker. He's helped me through a lot of shit, when I couldn't cope, when I thought there was nothing left. He led me back on track, but the fact that I'm sitting in this room again makes me feel hopeless. The fact that I'm seeing him again, means that I've taken a step backwards.

"Seiji-san and Satou-san seem concerned," Makoto hits low, speaking of my manager and boss, the two men who have been continuously wanting me to see Makoto. I fold my arms, staring out the window. It's sunny today, yet I don't feel any of the heat pouring into the room.

"Should we be worried?" He knows I'm avoiding it because it's something he's used to me doing. He's the type that will keep speaking passively until I am forced to answer him just, so that I can keep him darn quiet.

I mumble, "No."

"How about Takashi? I heard what happened to him."

It pisses me off. He knows how much I dislike talking about Takashi. He knows what I've done; he's one of the few that does. Guilt always overwhelms me whenever I think about it, about him; which is why I _don't_ like to address it - trust Makoto to bring it up.

Leaning back in my chair, I say, "Well, if you heard about him is it necessary to ask me about it when you already know?"

"Your stubborn nature gets worse with age, I see."

"Maybe if we started with, 'how are you, Yamato?' and a 'how have you been?', or chatter might have started nicer?" I grumble. "You straight away had to flick your therapy eyes on me, didn't you?"

"It's you that has been not wanting to come to these sessions. As soon as you were taking the antidepressants, you thought there was no need to see me anymore. Your life was fine, from what I gather...and it seems you never booked another appointment to see me for another repeat script." Makoto surveys me. "The medicine is always a temporary cure, but whenever it's combined with therapy sessions, you know it's more effective."

"I didn't need them after the repeat." I fiddle with my thumbs.

"Then _who_ have you been talking to?" Makoto questions. "I know you, and I know that you're not the type of person to confide in anybody else other than yourself. I've been worried. You've been not answering my calls, nor did you book yourself another session. Are you _really_ fine?"

"My life _is_ fine," I snap, irritated with how intrusive he's getting by the second.

I gaze up at him this time. Years of not seeing him, and it's easy to stop the difference. His hair is tinged grey now, there's less hair on his head, more wrinkles around his firm eyes. The only trait that remains is his iconic moustache. Many times I had been a source of my mockery mocked as a kid; a weak tactic to get Makoto from making the main subject. However, even the interference strategy never proved to be successful when you're up against Makoto. Even now, I know he'll get me to say things that I've kept hidden from everybody else. He has a talent for it.

What's good about Makoto sensei is that he doesn't baby me. He never has. He says things for what it is, which is both pestering and a blessing in disguise. He doesn't hold my hand and say that everything will get better. If he had, I would have walked out of his room a long time ago, and would have never come back.

He folds his arms, looking at me, and that gesture triggers me to rant more.

"I'm no longer dealing with being too stressed with the band. I'm earning well. I've even recently taken a holiday to visit my grandparents at their family-run onsen. I've got a cute niece and nephew. My friends are good to me. My best friend has recently gotten married; eloped actually. My brother likes to invade my personal space, and I _might_ be seeing a new girl."

"All of that _does_ sound promising," Makoto clicks his tongue. "But I know Takashi being in rehab is still eating at you. Also, you've failed to mention your mother, and how you've been coping with your father's passing. And, might I add, by you seeing this new girl, does this mean you have come to terms with Kaori's death?"

I exhale, frowning. I never can get passed him. Defeated, I murmur, "You really like rubbing salt to an open wound, don't you?"

"It's what I do." He gives me a small smile, but I don't return it.

Of course he's say something like that. I roll my eyes.

"Where do you want me to start?" I reply. "If we're talking about my mother, nothing's changed. She's always been the same ever since the divorce - not the least bit regretful. There's no progress between us if that's what you want to know. You might as well be shouting at a wall."

"So things are still prickly between the two of you?"

"What do you think?" I sigh, stretching my legs. "Our relationship has always been rocky, I doubt anything will change that."

"Have you tried to?"

"Maybe, yes...a tiny bit. I don't know. Every effort I put in, she tends to always talk me down. She gets irritated just by seeing my face. Everything I do is wrong, apparently."

"Now you're exaggerating."

"I'm not. If you met her, you'd understand." I dryly laugh. "Obviously you won't, and it's unlikely you ever will. She likes to pretend everything is good. That we're all fine. Why do you think she has not responded to you in the past, and never accepted any of your meeting invitations for a group session?"

"She might change her mind now."

"I doubt it." It's negative thinking on my part, but I know my mother. She has too much pride to admit that anything she says or does is ever wrong. She functions at a different level that I don't think I will ever understand the way her brain works. Acknowledging that we're getting nowhere with this, I shift topics. "What about Takashi? Is he progressing well?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Makoto quirks an eyebrow at me. "Besides, I'm breaking confidentiality if I leak information about any of my clients."

"Right," I snort. "I'd check on him in person, if I could, but he's another person that would hate to see me. He hates me Makoto, and you know that."

"You're like brothers. You've come a long way together with your band. He might need you more than you think."

"As a punching bag? Yeah...right," I quip back. "And you know what? Takashi's right. If I was in his position I'd be having goes at me too. I'd hate to see me too. Anyway, we were young; we were silly. Too much time has passed for us to make peace between each other."

"And now that you're older, maybe you can?"

"Ever the optimist," I mumble. I lean forward, helping myself to one of his red candies in the glass jar. As a child, I often wondered how he seemed to never run out of the candies. The flavour of strawberry bursts into my mouth, the candy melting on the tip of my tongue. "You gotta know, Makoto sensei, that being in the same room with Takashi has been hard lately. I respected him; I looked up to him. And now...well, he's a shadow of what he used to be. I hate witnessing him like this, and it makes me realise how much I've let him down - how much Kaori and I have."

"What makes you think that? If Kaori was still here, she might have forgiven herself for Takashi. If she had forgiven yourself, would you also?"

"She's not here." My shoulders suddenly feel heavier. Although what I've said is true, whenever I think about Kaori no longer being present, it still dulls my mood. Father had died, and it had been expected. However, Kaori's death...it still leaves me shuddering in the middle of the night.

But Sora had been saving me lately. Images of Kaori have been slowly merged, and replaced by my new love interest. I wouldn't have thought I'd fall for somebody again, but I had. It had taken an influx of years, many of years of having dormant and reluctant feelings towards romantic relationships, though with Sora it's been different. Kaori's still there though, always knocking in my memories...but with Sora being around, the vivid memories had been less frequent.

I tell Makoto this. From the look in his eyes, he is pleased. He gives a low chuckle. "So this new lady, you're comfortable around her?"

"Yes," I admit, smiling. "Sora sure is something."

"Sora's her name then?"

"Yeah," I reply, avoiding his penetrating gaze, cheeks feeling instantly warmer. It's still intrusive like how he typically pays attention to me, but this type of gaze has a different impact upon me because I _know_ that Makoto is teasing me. The bastard.

He writes me another script for a new batch of antidepressants he wants me to try. I reluctantly take it and as the thin paper goes between my fingers, he doesn't let go of it until I nod. He makes me promise to visit him at least monthly, and he has to add in that he's happy that life is working much better for me now. The old ojisan. My father was my father. Seiji is a father who wanted me, who encouraged me to aim for success; manager-san Satou is the guy that will keep an eye out on my health and that I'd attend to all my schedules while, lastly, Makoto had been the man, the prominent adult figure who I had gone to for emotional support. And, you know what? I actually feel better now that I've consulted with him.

"Next month then?" He ends the session. When I don't respond, he remarks, "No excuses. I expect you to turn up for your follow-up."

"Yes, sir."

Before I shut the door in his office, I hear him grunt at my sarcastic reply.

.

* * *

.

"Doesn't it feel weird?" The drummer curves his back, hands in his pockets as he glances around the hallway.

It _does_ , in fact, feel completely weird.

We're making our way to our old school gymnasium, taking a shortcut through the old corridors we used to scramble across during classes. It's like a reminder that we had once been young, we had once been students parading around this space.

Akira eyes his former classroom and mutters, "Nakamura sensei would always make me stand right over there and make me hold those darn buckets of waters whenever I'd misbehave."

"You probably deserved it," I reason out.

He scowls. "Gee. Thanks Yamato."

"Yeah, you were always a bit of an ass," Yutaka comments. "All the teachers despised you because you were either late or bad-mouthing them back."

"Guess some things never change," Jun adds, earning Akira to shift his leer on her after death-glaring Yutaka.

The gang had been a year older than me, so not all our memories matched. However, I've noticed that nobody has dared to bring up the missing member who isn't ambling down the corridors with us. I had given Jun an earful from trying to convince me to see Takashi, and ever since I had scolded her, she had stopped talking about him.

I glimpse at her attempting to trip Akira, and I bite my tongue from dissolving into a fit of laughter.

My friends are great like that. The only reason why we're here is because the principal had contacted me to speak in front of the soon-to-be graduates about jobs, careers, goals. You know - the whole spiel you get from somebody 'experienced'. I didn't really want to do it, but I had been putting off this favour long enough, and I did respect him when he had been the vice-principal because he was generally a good man.

Although my friends are here, it still is odd because, to me, everything feels surreal. Additionally, Taichi isn't here (he had an important meeting to attend). Whenever I think about high school, I'm reminded of Taichi, the band, and Kaori. Now that two of the three are lacking, walking in a place that reminds me of the past is vague and unsettling. I hadn't stepped foot into my old high school since graduation, because I had wanted to keep the past in the past - I had wanted to forget.

"Are you nervous?" Yutaka questions me. He doesn't even need to because it's darn obvious that I am.

I say, "Why can't you do it?"

"Oh, we're merely the lowly band members. We're not lead singers, and we'll never be your equivalent because you're a hierarchy way above us. I mean, all we do is just play instruments - we're not the face the band like you are, Yamato," Yutaka remarks back, voice dripping in sarcasm.

Jun giggles.

"Besides, you've always been KOD's spokesperson, _leader_ ," Akira mocks me. "You're the leader, so public speaking is right up your alley, man."

I roll my eyes. "Thanks. I feel privileged."

"You always are," Jun says, not missing a beat.

Groaning, I respond, "Now I really wish that none of you came. You guys are mean."

"Hey, you asked us to come along," Akira points out. "Something about moral support, you said. What do you want from us? Should we hold your hand and blow you kisses to make you feel better?"

I glare. "Fuck off."

Upon arrival at the gymnasium, the principal - Mr Hasegawa - strides towards us and gives me a handshake. He bows at the rest of my friends, as they file down one of the side aisles, sitting at their designated area. Only some teachers and the graduating students' families are here. The graduates have yet to fill their seats. I glance at Mr Hasegawa who gestures for me to follow him, as we exit the open space, going through a door and up a flight of stairs to hit backstage.

"Wait here until all the students gather," he instructs, pulling out a folding chair for me, "and when I introduce you, enter through this way."

"Thanks Mr Hasegawa," I murmur in reply.

When he's gone, I wipe my sweat hands onto my pants. I've been here, at this very same backstage, multiple times. It had been the first live performance KOD had done in front of a spectating audience. We had been a bunch of nerves, shaking and jittery. Takashi had given me a nod of encouragement when I sang the first note; and that was how KOD had started.

My fingers curl around my phone, wanting to call Taichi or Takeru. I know they're both working, so I decide against it. I could call Sora...but she hasn't been picking my calls. She hasn't even replied to me when I had texted her about another date, and she had even not responded to some cheap burgers and fries. If I hadn't bumped into Miyako's at my brother's house the other night, I wouldn't have found out that Sora's got the flu and - apparently - she's been bedridden.

I know I shouldn't be accusing, but it _has_ been two weeks. Even if she had the flu, all she had to do was either pick up her phone or text me back. It's not that hard, unless she really isn't as interested in me as she makes it out to be. I sigh. Rejection is always shit, but I'd rather be turned down in real life, than shut down without a response. I reckon that's worse than being dumped in person.

Maybe she doesn't find me interesting. Maybe she wants to be polite and civil with me because we have mutual friends? It sucks that I had finally got her to agree to date me, but if she's not game to put her part in - why should I? Or maybe I'm just clingy? Maybe I should give her her own space, and just accept that Miyako's telling the truth - that Sora really _is_ sick.

"...Ishida, Yamato! Former member and lead singer of Knife of Day. Successful composer and lyricist. Today he will give a speech about how he got to where he is now, and how he he worked hard to achieve his goals!"

Taking my cue, I walk onto the stage. The lights are hot as they beam over me. Instead of a cheering audience, I get welcomed by a sea of black. All the students are dressed in their graduation attire, sitting, waiting for me with curious eyes.

I clear my throat and begin to introduce myself. I then bow to Mr Hasegawa.

"Thanks for having me here. Just to think that once upon a time, I was like you, sitting there and wondering where life will lead me next." I smile at the crowd. Akira is smirking, I catch Yutaka giving me the thumbs up, and even Jun winks at me, encouraging me to go on.

"...to be honest, there is no right or wrong when you graduate. There are many pathways that leave you to success. You might not hit it on the head in one go. Sometimes it takes years for you to figure out what you want, even decades. Even for my brother, he resigned from a journalism job after getting a position as an intern to pursue novel writing. The future is unclear, but what matters the most is that you're happy with what you do and who you are…"

.

* * *

.

Akira had suggested we leave a different way from how we had come in. We cross down the west hallway because we all know, that deep down, we want to visit our old music room. As teenagers, instead of having lunch outside or in the cafeteria, we'd take our breaks in the music classroom to practice together. Jun had accompanied us too, feet resting on another table as she'd give her input of suggestions and cheer us on.

I smile at the memory. However, we never get to the music room.

The hairs on my spine stand as I'm lured in the room next to it. I'm subdued by the stench of strong acrylics, tickling at my nose. The door is ajar, and in a trance-like state, I'm attracted to the room, wandering inside it.

" _Yamato, where are you going_?" That's Jun's alarmed voice. She sounds distant, so far…

Her voice is gone. My ears are churning, perceiving soft laughter that grazes my heart. Subtle, enchanting. It's louder as I approach the paintings on the wall.

I abandon the rows of easels, surveying the paintings of black, dribbling in darkness. The strokes to every minuscule swish, I remember, cemented in my memory. Therapy. Escape. A darkness that was comfortable, that was warm. An array of beautiful images, dark images, her laugh, her smile in the dark when she'd push me against the wall, and we'd drone each other out of our pain, our misery, shifting in and out of classes, making love. She taught me love. She was somebody I loved...

A connection; a mutual understanding. The only person who ever really understood me. That's who she is; that's who she was.

"Those are...they _kept_ her paintings, as a _tribute_?" Yutaka gasps, or what I think is the person who resembles Yutaka.

Anger fuels me. She's disappeared. She left me...because I left her. That was her reason, wasn't it? She wanted her revenge, and that was how she did it. She didn't want me to escape her clutches. She wanted me to hold onto her until I took my last breath.

" _Have you forgotten? It's my birthday today…_ "

I freeze. "You're not here. Get _away_."

" _Don't leave me, Yamato._ " She cries. Her trembling voice, hurting my ears, aching my heart like the bruises on her arms, the scars on her wrists. She's not perfect; neither was I. We didn't come from perfect families. We sunk into the depths of a cave, an unknown of murky misery. Opaqueness, as we'd blindly flap our hands around to find our way, to find something - _anything_ \- to get us back. Survival. We survived through each other.

Music muted how I felt; painting forged brightness in her bleakness. We created together; we were each other's muses. She resonated with me; as I did with her. We kept each other sane, or that's what we thought we did.

We experimented; we did crazy shit together. " _Drink this_ ," Kaori would pass me a bottle of hard liquor that we'd raid from my father's cupboard. And I'd drink it. I'd do whatever she wanted me to because that's what we were - we were each other's bad influences.

Father never knew, never kept track because all he did was smoke and drink his troubles away too. That's what he did; that's what I also did.

 _Don't leave me, Yamato..._

Tears tease at my eyes, my lower limbs feel weak as I crash onto the ground, ripping my eyes away from the wall of memories, of how - how _dare_ they? Why the fuck are the showing off her work? She didn't like her paintings shown. She liked to paint for herself and she would even rarely let me look at them. But I had seen her paint them. I had seen her soul in them. They were her. And the school had used her art as some cheap exhibit...are we at school? Where... _what?_

Her long ebony hair pours over me in beautiful tendrils. She's still pretty as she sobs into my shoulder, breathing vibrating against my skin. " _You said you wouldn't leave. Why are you leaving?_ "

" _I have to go. I...the band needs me. We're starting our first tour and-"_

" _Don't go."_ Kaori pleads to me, desperation echoing in my ears _._ She caresses my cheek, each sensation, touch like static. " _What about us? I don't want you to go. You said you'd be with me. I need you."_

" _I'm here for you_."

" _Liar._ "

We're on a balcony. Her dress is being swept by the breeze as she stands on the ledge, refusing to step down. I tug at her dress, but if I do it with too much force, she might fall onto the other side, or she'll retaliate and purposely drop over the balcony. I can't have that happen.

" _Let me go!_ " Tears streaming down her beautiful, fragile face.

Her face barely visible even as she looks out at the sparkling, city lights. The sound of beating bass from the party, dulled in the background. The only person I see is her; it's always been her - and she can't do this to me. Not now.

" _No,_ " I snap. " _I care about you. Kaori, please. Baby, don't_ -"

" _You chose this. You wanted fame. You chose that all over me. You don't care about me. You don't!"_

" _Of course I care…"_

" _Liar."_

And perhaps I _am_ a liar. I said i'd be there for her. I had promised that I'd be by her side forever, but I hadn't. Though, I'm not lying about how much I care about her, how much I...I love her. Why else had I ended the tour earlier, why else had I come back to Tokyo to see her? I'm not back here for my father, or my brother...I had returned here for _her_. I had wanted to be with her, and does she really need me to spell it out, that I'll quit everything for her if she wants me to. The band can be damned. I just want to be with her. Nobody else matters.

I beg, " _Please come down."_

" _No."_ Her tone is firm, decided.

And it's then that she actually does it...

" _KAORI!"_

The thin material of her dress escapes from between my fingers, and everything collapses around me. My heart drops, I bawl, I yell, I'm hysterical as I slam my body against the railing, watching as she falls through the air. Her eyes are wide, shocked, fearful. But it's regret - it's the regret that fills her eyes that gets to me; the fact that she hadn't really meant it, that's she's actually done it, that she's slowly gliding out of my sight. That glimpse of hesitation that makes me feel helpless, useless and she disappears from my line of vision and into a blanket of darkness. And this has me sprawled on the floor, arms around my scraped knees as I rock back and forth, not wanting to look, not wanting to know anymore. There's nothing I can do for her. She's gone. The hesitation in her eyes, knowing that she wasn't even sure if she had wanted to go.

My hands are sticky as I gaze at the scarlet drenching my hands, her limp body is in my arms. I don't know how I got here; all I see is her. She's not breathing. She's not laughing. She's not gazing at me with her beautiful eyes. She's not here. " _Kaori…_ "

"Hey, Yamato? I'm here...we're here." Copper hair. I flinch, feeling her hand rub circles on my back. A soothing voice that doesn't belong to Kaori; rather Jun. Yes, it's Jun. She's staring at me, worried, knees squatting on the ground that I have slumped down on. The ground has splotches of paint. The art room. _Shit._

Vision blurred, eyes feeling swollen, I study my surroundings. Akira is pale, frowning. Yutaka also looks shaken up, surveying at Jun and I on the floor, not knowing what to do, not even using one of his lame jokes to slice away the tension. My throat feels coarse and raw. I must have screamed or yelled out loud from the way they're staring at me.

I gaze away from them because I hate appearing so petty, so pitiful. I say, "Can...we need to get out of here. I...I _can't_ -"

Jun reluctantly gives me space to stand. I try to get up, but my feet almost cave under me. Yutaka's holding me on my right, and Akira grasps onto my left.

" _I'm sorry._ "

None of them reply because they know it's neither of them who I am actually speaking to.

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* * *

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 **(a/n)** This chapter is all new content. I wanted to get this chp at least out before I closed Bittersweet Catastrophe because this is the pre-story before he bumps into Sora. So...I hope those future scenes in Bittersweet kinda make sense now with this chp (though there will still be a series of dark chapters to continue after this). Although most of you knew about how Kaori had died, this is more of a more intimate perspective from Yamato's POV - and it was a bit tricky to write because I wanted to get all the emotions correct for this. I was flicking on and off with this chapter the whole week, but I had to get in a certain 'down' mood to write this. Anyway, thanks for somehow barreling through this tough chapter. :)

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review reply;

 _Missy-Sue:_ I never thought he was this taken by her until I wrote from his perspective. Haha. And, from a bystander POV, I guess Yamato doesn't want to cross the line of being too obvious that he likes her too - especially when it had taken Sora a while to admit that she may have feelings for him too. Haha. Thanks for reading :)

 _(... will reply to the rest of the review later. just having a break because that was one crazy chapter to write)_


	21. chapter twenty: tipping point

_loser, loner  
_ _a coward who pretends to be tough  
_ _a mean delinquent  
_ _in the mirror, you're just a loser  
_ _a loner, a jackass covered in scars  
_ _dirty trash_

.

loser - big bang

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* * *

 **WARNING: rated scene in the second part.**

 **it may be uncomfortable to read,**

 **so skip this scene if you wish to.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **[LIFELINES]**

chapter twenty: **t** ipping **p** oint

.

* * *

.

"... _alright?_ "

Everything that's been hazy begins to sharpen, forming shapes, distinct objects that I vaguely don't recall being here a minute ago. I apply pressure to my forehead with the tips of my fingers, sitting up and adjusting to my surroundings.

We're in Yukata's car because the strong, apple air freshener is a clear giveaway. Outside, I see the familiar buildings and lights pour into my vision and it doesn't take me all that long to notice that we're in Shinjuku. There's a hand on my knee, long magenta painted nails followed with a kind voice, "Are you alright, Yamato?"

I shake my head.

"Yamato." It's Kaori. She's laughing softly. " _Did you forget?_ "

She pushes a strand of hair from my eyes, and I can't help but instinctively jolt from her grasp. "I didn't forget anything," I say under my breath. "You won't fucking let me forget…"

"Yamato." Grasping onto my shoulders, she puts weight on them so that I can turn to face her. It's then that I see her delicate face transit to somebody else's sharp chin, pixie haircut and lips painted with dark wine-red lipstick.

I tense up. The paint is gone. The blood is gone. It's just Jun.

Her eyes are hurt, concerned as she studies me. "We're here, and if you want to talk-"

"No…" I mutter. I lean back into the passenger's seat, glimpsing the other people in the car. I catch Yutaka's hair spiking up from behind the driver's seat and from the tapping sound radiating from shotgun seat, I know it's Akira because he never can keep still and produce his own beat when there is not any.

They would have gotten me back to the car. I had a panic attack. It's been a while since I've had one. They used to be more frequent and prevalent when Kaori had died. And, just from thinking about Kaori gets me tired. Everything's so exhausting.

My pocket vibrates. I ignore it, not really in the mood to answer. However, it keeps going off. I pull out my phone out and frown when I see it's my mother calling. Knowing my mother, if I don't pick up the call, she'll keep dialling me until my phone loses battery...so I answer it anyway.

She immediately hops onto the nagging train. "You're not home. Didn't I tell you I'd meet you at home today?"

I'm not having any of it.

"I said I wasn't free. I had something on. Besides, I didn't say I wanted you to come over-"

She rages, " _Yamato!_ "

" _Mother_ , I'm not free. Save it for another time," I hiss. I can feel my head pulsating from everything. All I want is to go home, or have a goddamn drink. I want this darn day to end. I'm over it.

"Don't _mother_ me."

For fuck's sake. I snarl, "You know what? Why don't you remarry that guy you slept with when you cheated on dad, get pregnant and make a new son for you to torment since I'm not giving you what you _fucking_ want."

I hang up. Jun's gawking at me from the side of my vision and although nobody else has uttered a single word, I can feel the awkward, tense silence loom inside the vehicle. I can have no filter when I'm pissed off, and this probably the first time I've voiced out my mother cheating openly in front of my friends.

"That was harsh. Uncalled for too," Akira doesn't fail to voice his opinion. Trust bloody Akira to.

I comment, "You never liked my mother."

"Even then, that was quite rude coming from you." Saint Akira is giving me a lesson on etiquette on being rude. The world really _has_ ended.

"Guys, _guys_ ," Yutaka, the middle man, speaks up. He's reached a hand out, over on Akira's shoulder, as if to prevent the drummer from jumping out of his seat and pounding me. "We've had enough going on today. Why don't we get dinner? Despite shit hitting the fan, Yamato's speech was good..."

"Why don't we call it a night?" Akira moodily grunts.

Jun kicks under the bottom of the drummer's seat. She glances at me, "You said you hadn't eaten anything all day because you've been nervous about speaking to all those school kids. Why don't you eat something, or even have a drink, and then we'll drop you home?"

As I'm about to say that I'd rather go back to my place, my stomach conveniently chooses to rumble, which makes my choice of going home no longer an option.

"Dinner it is. I'm craving yakitori. How about an izakaya? Didn't we all agree to one earlier?" Yutaka's going really out of the way to soften the mood. He even spares me a glance from the rearview mirror. I don't bother to return one back. I wish I had used my own transport getting to the school. With Yutaka driving, I really have no choice.

Ten minutes later, Yutaka's parking our car. Jun motions me to follow her by her side as we lug behind Akira and Yutaka who are ambling in front of us. We're going to one of our usual izakayas. No matter what occasion, it's one of those bars that we tend to frequent because the food is good and the drinks are piss ass cheap.

All I want is a drink. I could even feign to go the the toilet and hail a cab back home. Anything to get away from here, and away from my friends. The bottles of whiskies at home look more appealing than being out in public. Right now all I'm craving is to be myself. My friends are good for dealing with me and putting a front to pretend they get me, pretend that they understand what I'm going through, but I really can't be fucked…I've had enough.

We enter the izakaya. As Jun tries to capture one of the staff member's attention so we can get a table. I look around, and it's then that I turn still.

Everything dissolves into the background when I see her.

She's sitting casually at the bar, my supposed girlfriend who hasn't been replying to me. The one I assumed was bedridden with the flu. She laughing, a pretty laugh, auburn hair glistening under the dim lighting. A laugh that I want to wipe away from her mouth, although I can't hear it amongst the humming of intoxicated customers.

Her eyes are on another man, a stranger whom I don't recognise. He's not from here, but that's beside the point. The fact is she's enjoying this man's company makes me irate.

It all shatters when he leans in a kisses her. It feels like an eternity, as I stand frozen on the spot to witness it. When the stranger breaks away from Sora, I hear Akira say, ' _Oh shit_ ' and even shit isn't the best word to describe this fucking situation.

The bastard smiles at Sora, but what angers me is that she's smiling back at him. My arms cross around me, my body quaking when the asshole moves closer to kiss her on the cheek again. He passes me, whistling under his breath, but I don't dare to move to look at him.

My eyes are locked onto hers, and it's that small gasp, the wave of realisation that pours over her eyes that tells me she knows that I saw her with him. And that is enough proof, that is exactly what I fucking needed for somebody to pull the grenade of fury that is brewing, stirring inside me.

" _Yamato_." I shake Yutaka off as I storm out of the izakaya.

I don't think of much where I go next. All I know is that I need to get away from this. The one person, the only person I had finally come to trust...after everything I had to go through, Christ.

One turn after the other, I'm walking at the main Shibuya crossing. People are flocking everywhere and maybe because there are so many people trying to get from one side of the street to the other, that they don't notice my furious face that I, for once, have not disguised with a mask. Screw it. Let the whole world see me from what I am. The fuck up. The guy who always gets struck with bad luck; who always screws up. What have I done in my past life to get all this shit from occurring? For fuck's sake, cut me some slack-

"YAMATO!" She screams after me. "WAIT!"

I walk faster, threading through the crowd to shake her off from following me. I don't want her near me. The closer she is, the more she'll hurt me and I really can't bare to see her now, not after everything. Kaori had passed away, but at least I knew she loved me. Sora...she was somebody I trusted, I cared for, somebody I potentially did or could like...but she had to go and fuck it up; to fuck me up anyway. Maybe she never cared for me at all. She probably thought I was a game, some idiot to walk over. Perhaps that's why it took her forever to discern whenever I'd make a move on her. Perhaps she's got other guys on the side…

When I think I've lost her, I find myself at an alleyway. With every footstep I get doused in darkness, but I'm startled when I hear her again, just when I thought that I had lost her.

"Talk to me, Yamato." I turn to face her, jaw taut as I witness her peel more lies out of her pretty mouth. " _Please…"_

I remember her in my bed, arms wrapped around her thin frame as she'd also beg for me to release her. All the lies, all the sentiments lost from one moment that gave her true intentions away.

Glaring, I'm surprised that I can even respond to her when I seethe, "I don't want to. I'm too pissed off that I might say or something uncalled for. You should leave."

She doesn't heed to my warning, blabbering something about how she wants me to get mad at her. I'm already mad. Can't she see how _furious_ I am? I'm giving her an opening for her to get the hell away from me, but she's making it worse. What is the point of her facing me now? Does she purposely want to create drama? Is that what it is?

Attempting to make my voice steady, I murmur, "I've got enough on my plate. Sora, I can't deal with this right now."

She looks at me dumbfounded. What does she expect me to say? I use this as a chance to talk over the silence. "You were right anyway. Perhaps we shouldn't have started this."

"Stop putting words into my mouth…"

I don't hear everything she has to say, and I don't even think of what words I reply when I speak back to her. I'm tired of it. I chuckle bitterly. I don't need excuses for what I saw. I'm done with this. To the end, she keeps arguing with me and it aggravates me to reply back with more hostility, "Come on, Sora, admit it. You aren't interested in me since you like another person."

"Why won't you listen to me?" Her eyes water, tears visible on her flushed cheekbones. "He kissed me!"

"And you kissed him back," I state.

She shakes her head, tone pleading with me. "He's nothing, Yamato."

"Then _who_ is he?" I narrow my eyes, waiting for response. If she's saying that this man isn't anything to her, I call bullshit. I saw the way he looked at her. It was _not_ nothing.

"He's my ex," she admits, biting her bottom lip. "We...we were going to get married."

And that's enough. That's why I shouldn't even had listened to what else she had to say. Sora was _going_ to get married to this man - this man that she kissed! Obviously this man still cares for her if he's here. What was she thinking? What was I thinking?

"And the plot thickens," I resort to sarcasm. I'm chuckling, but inside a bigger, a larger impending wave of anger fuels me, tingling throughout my whole body. What more does Sora have up her sleeve? The next thing you know, she might say she has a baby hidden, stashed far away in Antarctica.

"Can't you understand-" No "-and listen to me for a minute? Yes, I was going to marry him, but I _ended_ it. We're nothing right now. Nothing."

I drawl, "Sure."

She takes my reply as as reason to snap back at me, suddenly bringing up all the women I have slept around with - like I'm a fucking player sleeping with any woman I see. This vexes me even more. She's clearly in the wrong here, but she's putting it all on me. Of course she's targeting my habits. Yeah, I slept with Jun. Big deal. It was mutual. We used each other, but that didn't mean I slept with the whole population. I thought Sora would be better than that, not to judge me from the magazines gossip that's a continuous stream of fiction. If this is who she really sees me for, is there even a point in this?

I don't know why I have to defend myself if she doesn't believe me, but I do anyway. "Jun wasn't my serious relationship anyway."

"Then who have you ever dated seriously?"

Kaori.

My shoulders suddenly feel heavy, and it's getting hard to breathe. I need to get out of here... _now._ Sora senses my hesitation, and bites onto it instantly. She yells at me that I'm being hypocritical, why I should question her past relationships when I can't get over my ex too.

But how can I?

Even after all these years, I never could. I never had the chance to. She was never alive for me to official separate from either. I had never gotten closure, all I received was her continual screams in my nightmares, when she fell to her death.

"She has nothing to do with this."

Sora rants on, but I'm getting her words in pieces. "...why bother with me if you're still attached to her?"

I tell her I don't want to talk about it. Sora looks ready to continue the petty bickering, but I've had it. I can't do it anymore. I say quietly, "This is done. We're done."

Not caring to even glimpse at Sora, I walk away, her voice fading from existence. All I want to do is fall down, to cry, to get rid of the shaking, the continuous panic that reaps, that shreds through me. Yet, I soldier on. Teeth grit, clamped together to keep them from chattering I slip past Jun who sends me a concerned glance. I shake my head, ambling on.

My amble becomes a stride, which later becomes a sprint.

 _You're a fucking coward, Yamato._

Leaving everybody behind, I make a run for it. It's better off that I'm alone. After all, sometimes being alone is all I'm good at.

.

* * *

.

My eyelids are heavy, throat scratchy. It's hard to breathe. I can't tell whether it's from my own screaming, laughing or crying. Or the smoke. Maybe it's from the smoke that has swarmed down my oesophagus like bees, drowning and contaminating every cell of my body. Who knows? But it feels lighter. I needed the darn fucking fix.

I ignore looking at the mirror. My hair feels oily, tousled. I can't even tell what day it is. What I care for is the urge, the craving for wanting more of whatever shit I was on. The stash I had confiscated off Takashi is now gone - completely gone, used. Had I really used it all? I laugh.

Floating down the hallway, I try to find more. It's like a fucking Easter hunt. Ripped pieces of paper everywhere, empty packet splayed in the living room, on the floor, the tables, seats, balconies. How much had I had? Beer cans litter the ground like it's part of a design.

Snatching a garbage bag from the bottom drawer - or was it the second - i find one anyway and haul every bit of trash I can find into it. High, or whatever the fuck I am, I can't stand it when something is a complete pigsty.

 _Clean up, you lazy asshole._

"Yes dad!" I salute. "Yeah dad, it's mainly your drinks."

 _Stop lying to me, kid._

I stop by the small altar. There are dead, dried up sunflowers and a photo of father as the centrepiece. His stiff face suddenly moves, eyes animated, laughter rippling out of the photograph as he swears, curses, and generally tells me off like he usually would, does, who knows?

 _How are you going to cope without me, Yamato? You're a mess right now. Pick yourself up._

"But I am picking myself up." I stare at the ceiling. "Isn't that what I'm good at?"

 _You're good at being a coward._ Conscience?

Wait, that's not dad anymore. Dad's not here. Where is he? He's gone. I guffaw.

I keep tidying up and there's a sweater I recognise. Used to belong to one of my high school mates because the jersey is a clear giveaway. Only Yamaguchi would wear this shit. Yamaguchi. Yeah, that dopehead…why the fuck was Yamaguchi here?

" _Yamaguchi? It's been a while. Can you hook me up with some…"_

Kaori giggles, our legs flying up and down in the air. "Yamaguchi is the best isn't he?"

She's on my lap as we glide back and forth on the playground swings. She can't escape. She can't fall now that I've secured her in my arms. She won't fall again. Never again.

"Yamaguchi isn't the best," I disagree. Her eyes crinkle as I kiss her on her neck, checked school uniform skirt clashing against the wind as we swing higher. "You are."

Her lips clasp over mine, and I feel the smoke fogging into me as she whispers in her delicate voice. It crawls into my ears and makes me want to claw my skin out, " _Yamato…_ "

"Yamato?"

Auburn hair. Fuck. I need to clean up. She's here. At my house. Why is she here? "Sora?" On the screen? Intercom. No. She's here. Her arms around me, holding me close. Warmth. She always feels warm, her scent subtle vanilla.

Pyjamas. Wet pyjamas? Or is it the tears in my eyes? Am I crying? It's sticking to her skin. I push her against the wall, feeling her inhale an exhale underneath her damp clothing. Her eyes look confused, hurt. Why is she here? Why am I here? Where...where am I? She's sobbing, or am I sobbing.

No. She can't see me like this. Not now. She needs to go. Did I tell her that? I think I did. But she's here. If she doesn't go now…

"It's been a week."

Has it really? Has it been that long? Or is my mind making these things up? This isn't real. "What do you want from me, Sora?"

"Please don't get mad. I'm sorry."

Why is she sorry? No, I need to tell her to leave. Lie. Yes. There's nothing between us anymore, Sora.

I'm not safe to be around. Not like this...but I want her. She's like a medicine. She makes me forget. She's what I need. She makes me better.

Sheets. Silk sheets. My nails are digging into her back and she clamps around me. Her eyes scared, lost, sad. She doesn't tell me stop. She whimpers, and it keeps me going. That's all she sees me as. Somebody to kill time with. "Then I'll _give_ you what you want."

This isn't real anyway. She's not here. She doesn't want me. She has somebody else. Sebastian. That's his name. How do I know his name? Taichi, yes. Taichi told me. But why would he tell me the name of her significant other, when I haven't even met her. Sora? Yes. We'll keep it a secret between the two of us, Sora, until they find out about us. It's too early. I don't want you to be uncomfortable. I don't want you hurt you. I almost ran you over! Why are you in the middle of the road? My cheeks are wet. Am I crying again? Why?

My throat feels raw. Blankets are barely on my body. I shudder, bringing the sheets over me. In the process, I feel my hand brush softly against her back.

"Sora?" I blink. She's dead.

No...her chest. She's breathing. Thank God she's breathing - wait...she's naked?

My hand hovers, holding up the sheet as I study her sleeping figure, bemused. Since when has she been at my apartment? Why is she here? I take a steady breath, everything comes into focus. There are trails of pink, angry scratches against her front. Bites, bruised marks around her breasts. Her lips are swollen, dried blood. A chill radiates over me. Her pained face flashes in my head, as she groans when I enter her. " _Come back, Yamato. I...I'm so sorry_."

"Sorry?" I repeat the word. My memory is confused. What the actual fuck has happened?

Patches of scarlet and the smell of sex stains the sheets as I stare back down at her dozing figure. I shrivel against the wall, piecing the puzzle of something that I don't want to piece together. But I already know the answer before it takes form in my mind. _No...but_ I told her to go - but how did she get here? I thought it wasn't real...was it real? How much did I shoot up, what, what did I do? Did I do it? Did I do this to her?

 _Who else could it be? She's in your bed._

My body erupts, shaking uncontrollably. I resist the urge to vomit. My body is craving more. I need more. _No. I_ need to get out. I need to get away from her. I somehow stand up. Everything feels like it's caving around me, gravity seems to be tumbling. That's right. I need to leave. I need to get away from her before I hurt her even more.

She's too good for you, Yamato. You _knew_ this. You knew you can't be with her. Sora's perfect, and you're broken. This is what you do. You damage people, the people who you care about, wherever you go. She can't be another Kaori.

I glance one more time at her, in the soiled bed, before rushing to stick my head over the toilet bowl.

Exactly. _..what the fuck have I done?_

.

* * *

 **.**

 **(a/n)** _It obviously took me a while to get in the mood to write this chapter because it is quite dark and confronting. Kinda matched my mood tonight since my bad shift at work facilitated me when writing this chapter. There are probably typos everywhere, but the distortion of how Yamato's head is a mess is purely intentional. Lots of f-bombs spread throughout this chp, but within reason. Sorry if this may have been offensive to read. It's 2am, and it's time to snooze now. Will reply to reviews later. xox thanks for reading and making through this one._


	22. chapter twenty-one: repercussions

_stay with me  
you're the one that i need  
you make the hardest things  
seem easy_

 _keep my heart  
somewhere drugs don't go  
where the sunshine slows  
always keep me close_

.

drugs or me - jimmy eat world

.

* * *

 **.**

 **.**

 **[LIFELINES]**

chapter twenty-one: **r** epurcussions

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* * *

.

A dog barks at me, ear-piercingly, shrill and relentless. It bares its teeth at me in a feral manner - or maybe it's because I'm the one who is feral. The middle-aged lady walking the dog sends me a withering look, pointing her nose up and striding past me. She's not the only one. A bunch of school girls cringe upon seeing my face, flocking away to the other side of the footpath.

Then there's this elderly couple that look about my grandparents' age. The old man is waving his cane at me, whilst muttering to his wife about how kids these days don't know how to look presentable. He should meet my mother because I know that they'd get along well. I roll my eyes, striding forward. There's no point arguing with strangers, especially if they're old. When they're set on their ways, there is no chance for anybody to alter their opinion. Yes, I know I look shit. Thank you very much.

Glancing down at my once white shirt, splotches from unknown sources compromise it. No wonder I look repulsive to everybody. I must look so hideous for nobody to recognise that it's me, the fucked up, former washed-out lead singer to KOD. My grey, shredded jeans don't look 'presentable' either. Whether the shredded look is part of the style, I am uncertain. That, or maybe I had subconsciously skidded down a barbed wire fence while I had been out of it.

Perhaps I should have stayed home. Why had I been in such a hurry to leave?

I frown. I know I was seeing things, that's why I needed to get out of there. I had needed fresh air. That's what it was. I needed to get away, to ensure that I wasn't hallucinating - that she really wasn't there. She had to be an illusion, right? Once I return home, I'll find my apartment clean, she won't be there. It's all my mind playing tricks on me because I had smoked too much.

Yes, that had to be it.

Licking my dry lips, I duck into the closest convenience store. The server doesn't ask my preference as he grabs out a pack of cigarettes, the brand I only smoke. From the small fridge under the counter, I add two bottles of water and a lighter to the counter. When I take out my card to pay (at least my wallet hasn't gone missing while I had been high), the cashier ambles past me and into the store room. Seconds later, he's carrying out a casket of beer.

He heaves it onto the counter and says to me, breathless, "As requested, Mr. Ishida."

"Did I ask for this?" I blink, uncertainly.

"You've been coming here every day for the past week for beers. Three days ago you put in a bulk order for this, but you didn't pick it up yesterday. That's why you're here, right?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Another rough night, huh?"

"You can say that..."

I don't even have it in me to argue with him because it probably is true. The cashier wouldn't be lying to me, and right now, anything is believable since I can hardly recollect anything. Even a stranger's words seem credible than relying on my own, sketchy memory.

Frowning, I pay for the casket of beer anyway, swiping my card. My hand is shaky when I slip it back into my wallet. The cashier lends the store's trolly to bring the casket of beer back to my apartment. I hope I remember to return it.

By the time I'm in front of the apartment complex, I light a fag and take a long drag. A stream of smoke escapes my lips, I close my eyes. Yes, none of this real. No. " _Why bother with me if you're still attached to her?"_ Her eyes are hurt, but all I feel is despondence. Her lip bottom lip, quivering, begging for me to listen. She reaches out to stroke my back. Pity in her eyes. Or is it me? Am I the one who is pitiful?

She's lying when she says she cares about me. I bite into her neck, planting rough kisses down her body. It doesn't resonate me because it doesn't feel real - it _isn't_ real. I wouldn't have done that. She trembles around me, eyes vague. I wouldn't have... _lies_.

The pressure in my head feels tight. With my vacant hand, I grip a portion of my hair from the right side of my scalp, inhaling the fag then hissing it out. No. I know when I return, she won't be there. It's my imagination fucking me up. An illusion.

 _Then go in, Yamato. Don't be a coward._

I stub my cigarette with my shoe, pushing the trolly into the elevator. I need to get on with it. Even if I feel dread pooling at the pit of my stomach, I have to keep going on. I have to face what's there, and if I keep running...have I really changed? Am I still that idiot kid that thinks he's man enough to say that he's all good, when deep down all he was doing was ripping himself apart.

Maybe things haven't changed.

 _Yamato, listen, I'm your best friend and I hate when you get all shit like this. If you're fucking angry, throw a punch at me. I can take it. Just don't fucking stop talking to me because I hate that more. Don't be an ass._

Taichi's always been a good friend. A good friend that's always there for me, and I'm surprised he's stuck with me this long. I half expect him to leave. But he never did. Will he now? After...if what I did…

My apartment is open, with the door half agape. I can't even remember if I had left my place unlocked. I'm assaulted with the rancid smell of weed, hard liquor and other foul smells that my tired brain can't pinpoint. It seems possible that I had been hermiting, smoking up and drinking all this time. What else would I have done? Sometimes some coping mechanisms stay the same - asides from the smoking up. I hate myself for it. I hadn't brought myself to back into doing any drugs until recently. Takashi had made me stop, but mostly it had been Kaori. It had always been Kaori.

I roll the trolly of beer inside, leaving it in the middle of the hallway. About to crash onto the sofa, my phone starts buzzing from somewhere. The more I investigate into it, the more I realise that the sound is being emitted from my bedroom.

Kicking the door open, my toes touch the soft carpet as I scramble towards the bedside table where my phone in conveniently charging.

Something doesn't feel right. The phone is abandoned, heart sinking as I glimpse the done up bed.

It's not a complete surprise because, occasionally, I do make my bed. However, after I had dashed out of the apartment, I knew I wouldn't have fixed me bed up. Besides, my pillows never rest against the bedhead. I never cared for that detail. Details...Sora had done this before. She had made up my bed.

Disheartened, I find a set of scrunched up pyjamas tossed in my bedroom's trash can. I decipher stains of red in the sheets, and then my breathing becomes haggard as the same image of Sora lying naked in the sheets, with scratches on her skin, lips swollen - and, oh God, it's real?

I stagger, kneeling onto the ground, left arm hoisted, supporting me from completely crashing down, from completely breaking. Although my knees are weak, and I'm feeling faint, it doesn't stop the swarm of thoughts from swimming in my mind.

 _What the fuck is wrong with you? Did I really do what I think I did? How could I?_ Cheeks wet, tear stained. Everything is fucking stained. _I'm the worst._

I have to find Sora. I need to apologise. I crawl towards the bedside table, not trusting myself to stand, snatching the phone and removing it from the charger. My thumb lingers on the call sign, hesitating at Sora's phone number. I let out a sigh, not knowing what approach is better. Should I call her, or should I not? Is it too soon? Is she angry at me? Is she terrified of me? I'd rather her angry because I...I deserved it. However, the thought of Sora being scared of me make me queasy.

 _Apologise, and then what, Yamato?_ Does she even want to speak to me after what I've done? What right do I even have to call her after what I've done to her...especially when I can hardly remember it?

My phone rings, momentarily blocking my thoughts out. I let it keep ringing until it stops. Satou-san.

Yikes. They're probably fuming by now because I haven't turned up to work, and haven't been picking up my phone - _wait…_ I listen to the first voicemail.

Satou sounds exasperated, "Yamato, I know you're not feeling the best. Jun notified me about what happened at the school when you had to do that speech...about Kaori. If you need more time, that's fine. But, it would be better if you spoke to me instead of me receiving second-hand information. How long will you be on leave?"

What right did Jun have to tell Satou about Kaori? I sigh, immediately feeling guilty. Jun was doing it for my own good. I had been out for a week, and she had been covering for my sorry ass. Some ungrateful friend I am.

It then instantly proceeds to the next voicemail. Koushiro. "Hey Yamato. I contacted you via LINE, but you haven't replied. It's months in advance, but can you ensure that you book the 3rd of May off? It's my birthday and I would be honoured if you could make it."

 _Honoured_. Of course it had to be Koushiro to use the word 'honoured' in a spoken sentence.

There are more missed calls, but no voicemails left. As I scroll through the phone, most of the missed calls are from Jun, Taichi, Takeru, my mother, Satou, Seiji...just to name a few. And because I hadn't been answering the calls, some of them had texted me as well.

"Mother's angry. What did you do to trigger her this time? She won't keep quiet." "Hey, did you forget it's Thursday? Didn't you say you'd babysit tonight?" "Oh, don't worry. I spoke to Jun. She said that you had some work stuff going on. Hopefully you can babysit next week?"

Damn Jun and her butting in. I exhale. She could at least keep the same story if she was covering up for me.

Talk about the devil. I frown at her text. "I get it. You're pissed about Sora, sad about Kaori. We all go through shit, Yamato. I just can't keep making excuses for you forever either. Satou and Seiji will be questioning you soon if you don't get your act together. And, by now, I would have stormed into your apartment since you _fucking_ haven't been responding back to anyone...but I've driven past your place a few times, and I've caught you moving from your window. I also know you haven't changed the locks, but you have locked your place from inside, which is making it impossible for me to check up on you. I know you're doing this intentionally, but if you want your own space could you at least give us an explanation? I'm not your darn babysitter. Anyway, please talk to me when you read this."

"Don't you dare hang up on me when I'm talking to you." That's my mother's text, of course. "I'm your mother, and you should show some respect. I didn't raise you to be a brute-"

 _Exactly_. She didn't raise me. My eyes get tired from reading the rest of her text so I swipe down to the next message.

"Yo. Reckon I can crash yours? My first marital argument with Mimi - and it's over something stupid." "I told her she gained weight so that I could have the last pizza slice, then she accused me of calling her fat. When I said she wasn't, she didn't believe me. She said I was lying. She really can't take a joke, can she?" "So...it's all settled down. Mimi and I are fine. I brought her chocolate and now she's in good spirits. Maybe I'll buy her chocolate every time she gets mad." "Uh...aren't you going to reply back, Yamato? Are you _that_ busy again that you can't spend some little time with your boy?" "Fine. Don't pick up my call." "Seriously, man, where are you?" "Hey, are you alright?"

I know that I'm going to get an earful from all of them when they confront me about not answering to their calls or texts. The words all blend into a blurry fog, so I stop reading the flood of messages. I begin to close all the apps on my phone, but then I'm struck by a photo of her. She's carrying Risa-chan, grinning at me. I had taken when it was my nephew's birthday.

Her smile fades, eyes blearing with confusion as I straddle her. Auburn hair splayed on the white pillows. Gasping. Crying. God damn it. I throw my phone aside. How can I bring myself to speak anybody after what I've done?

The next thing I know, I'm in front of the casket of beer, ripping the cardboard off. I don't bother searching for a bottle opener as I twist the cap off one of the bottles. The sharp twist slices through the flesh, and my hands drip scarlet...but whatever. Seeing that I can't get a hit, I'll have another drink - anything to numb this rotten feeling that is poisoning me inside, that is inking black through my veins.

This is an illusion.

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* * *

Sometimes I'd turn to work; other times I wouldn't. Today I haven't. I've been bumming at home all day.

That's what's been going on ever since I fucked up.

Maybe because I've consistently worked myself to my pits, the company has been lenient to me that they're actually giving me special treatment. I haven't been as active at work as I usually am. I've been giving my bare minimum. Work isn't all that busy at the moment because the junior band, _Wired_ , is on a break. The sound producers are going over some of their latest compositions. I've done my run through their latest tracks a month ago, so there's nothing for me to do on my part.

 _Wired_ has potential to be a great group, but from the way they're acting...I feel as if stardom is getting to their head. They're practicing less, and getting cocky. I noted it when I went on tour with them to Hokkaido. They'd laugh it off when they make mistakes. Unfortunately, I hear their mistakes and I can't let it go because I can't forget about them. KOD used to hate how I was a perfectionist and would go all commander on them, and it seems that even when I'm merely a substitute in one of the group's, I still carry the same persona that irritates most of the band members.

In addition, most of the artists I've been mentoring have gone on leave at the same time, or have quit (Satou-san has always said I can be a bit too harsh on some trainees, which I can't completely disagree with). Maho-chan has been the only trainee I could deal with, and even then she's tried to call me out, but I've ignored her questions when she'd try to ask me what was wrong. I've been redirecting her back to her own training, and then she keeps quiet after that.

Asides from Maho, that's it. I haven't been doing much at all and because of this, I've (surprise, surprise), had more spare time in my hands. Despite it all, it's not like I'm doing much with it. If anything, what I've been really trying to do is keep my sanity in check.

Let's just say I haven't been stable – and I know that. I've been drinking more than I should, smoking more...and when it gets tougher and nothing can numb it down, I'd give a call to Yamaguchi to hit me up. I hate that it's turned out this way, but it has. I've been slowly weaning off, but when I think I have, memories crash into my mind that I want to forget, and I'm then chasing Yamaguchi to purchase the latest hit. Some days I'm sober, other days I'm out of it, and I wake up hung-over, dizzy, lying on my sofa, bed, or the ground. As much as I don't want to admit it, my life really is in shambles.

With Seiji-san on annual leave (thank God), it's only been Satou at my back. I'm good at lying to him and ensuring that he keeps his nose out of my business because I have been an ass to him, and I know what irks him to make him storm away from me. I've generally been difficult to hang out with everybody...well, it's not like I've been making the effort to go out of the way to see people. I've been avoiding everybody I possibly can.

"Glad you didn't lock the door this time."

 _Jun._

She's one of the few people I've been speaking to, despite not wanting chatter at all. I haven't really been replying too much to her whenever she'd visit. But I have picked up her calls here and there. I can always rely and trust her. It's always been that way between us. Even when shit hits the fan, I feel comfortable with her.

Jun arches an eyebrow when she sees my sorry state. It's already night time and I'm still in my boxers. There are just about over ten bottles of empty beer on the coffee table and an almost empty bowl of popcorn. Since I had spilt it, there are bits of popcorn littered over the ground.

She sighs, joining me on the floor where I'm lying down. "Please tell me you've had more to eat asides from popcorn. Guh, you smell of alcohol. Why don't you consider a shower or maybe shaving? You'll look like Jesus soon if you don't fix yourself up."

I grunt, "Shut up, Jun."

"Ah, at least I'm getting some sort of reply," she deadpans. She's not saying she's worried, but I can see it combined with pity. I hate it when people find me pitiful. It's one of the things I hate the most. "Takeru was asking about you. As instructed, I said you were fine-"

I nod.

"-although we both know you aren't. Can you at least book yourself another appointment to see Makoto-sensei? Or are you going to keep drinking? Are you aiming to be like your father because at the rate you're going, you will be. I get it that you idolised him and shit, but fucking up your lungs and your liver isn't the way to do it. You've been clean for ages...what the hell happened?"

Ignoring her gaze, I unscrew another bottle. She takes the beer from me and puts it out of my reach. Both her hands press against each side of my cheeks so that I've got no choice but to look at her. "For fuck's sake, Yamato."

"What?" I quip back when she doesn't let go of her hold. Glaring, I spit out, "What? You wanna kiss me?"

She swears at me in disgust, releasing me. "I have a girlfriend, and right now you're not thinking straight. By you kissing me as payback for what's Sora done, it won't make you feel better. You know this."

"It doesn't matter. Sora and I are over..." I laugh bitterly. "I fucked up more."

"I thought she did when you caught her kissing that other guy," Jun says, tilting her head and observing me. "What do you mean by _you_ fucked up more? Isn't what she did already bad enough?"

"I fucked up," I repeat, but I don't go into detail. I can't bring myself to say my presumptions out loud because then it sounds real. "Let's just say Sora doesn't want to do anything with me after...after what I've done."

Jun shakes her head at me. "I beg to differ. I don't know exactly what's gone on between the two of you, but I know she's been struggling as well-"

 _Of course she's been struggling._ I flinch, imagining all the pain I must have inflicted to her and never done anything to apologise or manned up to approach her.

"-Sora's been in the dumps. I may not be in your immediate group of friends, but I know it's taken a toll on them too. I hear stuff, ya know? Daisuke mentions bits and pieces at home, that it's easy for to connect the dots. Your close knit group of friends like to gossip. Takeru was hanging at my house last night, and I overhead him talking about you to my brother."

I know my brother's been worried about me. There were times I had been in and out, and during one of my lucid moments, I swear I heard him speaking behind the door, trying to get into my apartment. Times, I think, even Taichi has visited with him...and each on those times, high or not, I hadn't found the courage to let either of them in. Funny that it's my brother and my closest, best friend, yet I couldn't let them see my breakdown. I couldn't do that to them.

"Yamato, you know that I'm here for you." Jun hugs me, her warmth magnetic and familiar. "Promise me to try. I...don't want you doing anything stupid. Remember what happened to Takashi."

That's one of the thoughts that keep me going. I had gotten addicted during that week I had been drugged up, and although I've been trying to wean it down...I'd have mini relapses, then get back onto the drugs and binge. It's been a consistent struggle. Thinking about Takashi, to be like him, is not what I want to be. Yet, at the rate I'm going.. _.no_. I won't let it happen. I don't want to be an even bigger burden to anybody. I can't allow that.

I close my eyes, wishing it would all go away.

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 **(a/n)** This chp wasn't the easiest to write. It's a shorter one, but I thought it was best to stay on its own. Thanks for reading :) Will reply to reviews in the morning. xox


	23. chapter twenty-two: bad patterns

_i'm ok  
_ _don't comfort me  
_ _you don't have to have pity me  
_ _you don't have to stay with me,  
i'm fine_

 _i'm ok  
_ _don't worry about me  
_ _you don't have to mind me  
_ _i'm used to being alone_

.

i'm ok - ikon.

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 **[LIFELINES]**

chapter twenty-two: **b** ad **p** atterns

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 _You were meant to look after the kids yesterday. Where were you?_

I've lost count of how many times Takeru has been trying to contact me. I had turned my phone off after the endless string of calls last night. I had only turned it back on so that I could switch the GPS mode to find where the hell I was. I've lived in Tokyo all my life, but with the relentless construction work and how the ginormous this city is, even I can get lost. Anyway, once the GPS setting was on, a series of unread message flashed on my phone, some even notifying the missed calls from various contacts. Takeru latest text is another pestering message.

If only everybody could leave me alone. I'm seriously sick of it. Life would be easier if it would just end.

When I'd be high and my thoughts were foggy, I'd sit on the ledge of my balcony, contemplating the drop – and how Kaori did it and...and how much weaker I was because I couldn't. After she had done it to me, after how much it had torn me apart, I never went ahead with it because of the people I'd leave behind. I have friends, I have family I care about. I couldn't let them go through what I went through; I don't want them to experience the emptiness, the guilt, the regret.

Sometimes I wonder if would be easier if I hadn't known anybody, if there were less people surrounding me. It would hurt less; it would be easier. If I were a nameless face...not a rockstar, not a brother, not a friend, not a son – it would be easier to die.

 _'Irasshaimases'_ parrot on as I pass through the street of restaurants. It's lunch time, the crowd is tireless clad in dark suits, their voices buzzing in my ears, dull and heavy. The mixture of food scents makes my stomach clench, and twist. With a hand over my mouth, the other holds onto a brick wall as I try not to expel anything. A cigarette. That's what I need.

A lady in front of the udon restaurant doesn't seem impressed by this. I bow my head slightly, turning away from the restaurant and her judgemental glare.

I should expect this. I had drank too much last night. I didn't wake up in my own bed. Sleep hadn't worked so I kept drinking. Cheap perfume had poisoned my senses, long burgundy nails scraping down my back, stifled gasps in my ears. Flashes of skin, mine and somebody else's. Stumbling onto the street into a hazy Friday morning onto the filth, the remnants of spending a night at the red light district. The woman's laughter still clawed at my brain as she'd fuck me, a mild recollection of the night, and how I'd give her how much yen she'd ask for. When she was gone, I could only remember bursts of auburn hair and head another voice crying. Her cries – the frail pleading that kept haunting me, that wouldn't give me rest, that made me too scared to sleep.

Sex obviously didn't work for me. It had triggered it for the worst. The pills numbed me, but they made me scratch for more. The alcohol made me forget, made me black out. The alcohol kept me going. I drank it like water, never daring to stop at one drink. I'd drink til my head was fuzzy and I'd wake up crouched pathetically over a toilet bowl.

Pills were temporary, inconsistent, much to Yamaguchi's displeasure. I always barely managed to stop myself before I'd get worse. I liked being in control, but as the weeks blurred on, I know I've been gradually losing myself. Alcohol had been the better option, it made everything feel lucid, like everything wasn't real. Then I'd fall back into the same cycle, and I'd try everything possible that could make me feel better.

The thing is, nothing did.

I was doing a good job at fooling my manager, as he was the only one who saw me the most. I'd be at work, holed up and hunched over my desk. It wasn't difficult to slip into the workaholic role because I already was one. I didn't even need to try. My low mood indulged my muse to produce more. It was another getaway, a way that made me lose track of time. Sometimes I'd forget to go home, and lie to Satou-san that I had went to the studio early when he spotted me in the same recording room the next day.

As for everybody else, I ignored them.

I'd see them when I'd get better. I had been clean for a week, but the shaking was getting worse. The cigarettes kept me alive, the liquor slightly sedated me, sex was a weak distraction...but I hated closing my eyes the most. I hated dreaming. Demons that had been residing in the crevices of my mind, would awaken and bring up a diffusion of unwanted memories. That's why it's been harder because I had taken drugs out of the equations, my lows have been getting worse. Everything was becoming hopeless.

"Yamato-senpai?"

Blinking, I see a teenager girl in a familiar uniform. Her backpack is slung on one of her shoulders, she crosses her arms to look at me. It's a uniform that doesn't belong in this side of town, maybe a handful of stations away from this current location. _Miho-chan?_ I don't know how long she's been here.

Dazed, I blink and see the Starbucks sign behind her. Sure enough, there's a hot beverage from the coffee store cradled in both of her hands. Which Starbucks am I at? Where...yes, I need to go home. Or the studio. Yes, I'm going to the studio...

"Why are you here?" Miho-chan asks me because it seems I've forgotten to reply.

I say, "Ah, because of this and that-"

Miho surveys me, "You're wearing the same clothes from yesterday."

"Forgot to do my laundry."

"You're disgusting," she comments, although I know she doesn't believe it. I want her to believe I'm fine. Unfortunately, she's not buying it because she's too smart for her own good. I let out a sigh when she doesn't delve more into my miserable state.

I mumble, "What are you doing out of school?"

"No class." Miho says this a bit too quickly. I know it's bullshit because it's that time of year when every student is cramming for their finals, the classes wouldn't finish this soon when they're meant to be longer, and more intense. She's either ditched class or...

"Look at me, Miho-chan."

Her jaw tightens. Light simmers over her face, the overcast disappearing, and I capture that Miho's usual flawless complexion is tainted by her pink, swollen eyes. She cranes her neck, staring away. However, I lightly take her wrist into my hand. She's shaking as she rips me from her hold, hands falling behind her back. In that moment I know she's holding something behind her to hide from me.

After a few attempts, I swipe it from her. When I see what it is, it suddenly makes sense. It's a school test and in harsh red pen, the paper is graded a forty-nine percent.

Her shoulders are slouched. "I know, I know. I'm stupid, alright? Don't tell me off, Yamato-senpai. I tried, alright? You...you told me you'd keep being my mentor if I graduated high school, if I passed all my tests. I've lost my chance now. You don't want to teach a dumbass."

Resting my hands on both her shoulders, I shake my head as I press my forehead against hers. "You've been trying, haven't you?"

"I'm the only one who failed. They were all laughing at me. I don't even know why I even took Physics up. It's hard." She steps back, snatching the paper back from me and stuffing it into her bag.

"Perhaps try studying more? Didn't I tell you to focus more on your studies? Because of your musical career doesn't go on full swing, at least you'll have your academics to back you up-"

"But I'm not an academic!" Miho exclaims. "I'm not like you. School bores me. My classmates think I'm stupid to pursue music, and I'm too stupid to focus on anything else."

"No, you're not stupid," I scold her. "I wasn't a complete academic. Hell, a lot of my friends weren't either. Don't make excuses up when I know you can do better. I've seen how much you can focus on your music,

and how determined you are, so don't lie to me and tell me that you can't do it. You need to put the work behind it before you make that assumption!"

Taichi hadn't been the smartest cookie in my year level. However, once his Mathematics teacher threatened that he'd lose his spot on the school's soccer team, he worked his ass off for it. He scored even more than I had. People sometimes look at me, and think that everything had been given to me on a plate. I worked hard to get here. I had worked hard to become this successful. It wasn't something that happened over night, however to Miho it seems like it's something I had easily acquired because I'm already at a high level of recognition.

She needed something to blame it on. She needed a scapegoat.

"Fine. Let's say I do well in school. I graduate...but will you even let me debut? You've been holding it off on me for a while."

"You're not ready," I say. "Look, I'm not backing down on my word. When you fix your scores up, when you graduate, it's then that I'll consider anything else for you career wise. However, I want you to be sure which genre you want to debut in. I don't want you to debut in pop because you're style is versatile and once you're a pop idol, you'll be stuck there as one."

"How can I even think that far ahead when I'm going to flunk my Physics exam?" She groans.

Funny because Pysics is the one subject that I actually excelled at. It had been my best subject and required little effort for me when studying. Although I can't say I remember everything from Physics, I can still help.

"I can teach you-"

"Yamato-senpai!" She cuts in, " _How_ exactly can you teach me? How can you help me, when you're not helping yourself! You tell me that I should try harder, that I'm not doing enough – but you...I can't be like you! You're doing _too_ much. You're falling apart, but you're still trying to _help_ me? You're not being fair."

Her tone is frustrated, upset. I had never heard her voice this distressed. We communicate through banter, one of us trying to get the best of the other. Sibling banter. I'm startled when she starts balling her hands into fists pounding them softly onto my chest.

"Hey, hey. I'm fine," I try to comfort her, but she withdraws back and glares at me. "How am I not being fair?"

"You think that I _haven't_ noticed!" She starts, "You're one of the few people I can depend on. I never get intimidated around you, I can tell you anything...but right now you're not being yourself! I don't like the you that you are right now."

I frown, not knowing what to say. I'm so tired of it. There's not point defending myself because she knows I'll just be lying through my own teeth and she's hate me for it. And, if I keep lying, she'll lose respect for me – and I can't be like that, not when I'm her mentor, not when she's like another younger sibling to me.

Miho's one of the few people who have kept me going. Despite not disclosing anything to her, her determination for success has empowered me on the days when I've been feeling shit. Seeing her made me want to keep clean, to try an be a good role model to her. She's one of the reasons why I haven't fully fallen into the darkness, how each week I battle with myself, staying on the liquor and cigarettes and attempting not to take any other substances. The pattern hits me again when I feel like I can't escape, but guiding Miho through music makes me want to restart again, makes me want to cease these bad patterns I get myself into.

She's a reminder that there's much more to life, that hope does exist, that striving for a better life is always an option. She may not be the smartest academically, but she's somebody that I get because we're quite similar, and when she disclosed that her parents had also gone through a divorce, I couldn't help but carry a soft spot for her. She's resilient. She kinda reminds me of how I used to be; how I want to be. It's not always about looking up to somebody older, sometimes it's the younger people you learn from too – that bleak moments can dissipate if you can endure it.

"Yamato-senpai? Are you alright?" Her voice is suddenly concerned as she gazes at me, expression dropping. "You're shaking."

"I'm good," I dismiss. I curl my toes, trying to centre my thoughts, trying to cease the quaking. I tilt my head to the side, staring back at her. "You're right though."

"Huh?"

"I don't like who I am right now either." I dig my hands in my pockets, to hide the trembling. "Sorry, Miho-chan."

"Senpai-"

"I'll improve. I'll get better. You rely on me, as much as I rely on you...and I don't want to let you down too. I can't afford to lose you as well."

She questions me, "Just what are you talking about now?"

My nails dig into my palms. "I'll be better. I _need_ to be better."

 _But can I? Haven't you already screwed up? What's the point of keep empty promises when you're going to fuck it up anyway?_

"Yamato?"

"Sorry, I need to go."

I have to leave before I lose it. I can't lose it in front of my _kōhai_ , not when she's one of the last people who looks up to me, who respects me. I turn the corner, and I shiver in the cold. Some alleyway. Where am I? Everything's blurred. The feet hurt. My soles hurt – wait, where are my shoes? Skin itching, I hunch up, teeth jittering. Bile rises up, burning up my throat as I vomit. My lungs are sore, laboured and shuddering for air.

This block is familiar. A bar? Yes, this one will do.

I've been here before. I don't remember when, but I have. The dingy place is empty, but it soon fills up with people. Suits, after work people. How long have I been here? The bartender is hesitant to give another drink, but I keep tipping him more and the night keeps going. Puffing up cigarettes between each beverage, the tobacco staining the taste of the alcohol. I've lost count until I feel my knuckles burn. Shards of glass. Blood. The rum is spilt on the counter. The bartender looks mad. Security guards. _"You need to leave, sir."_

My shoulders are being lifted and I'm on the street again. Somebody with lilac hair squats next to me. Oh, I'm squatting too? "Yamato? Were you looking for me?"

"I was, Kaori. I should be the one looking for you-"

"Sorry guys, I might have to skip the work dinner tonight. I've got to take my friend home. He's drunk." No. It's Miyako. Yes, I was going to her work because she can tell me where this blood is coming from. Where is it coming from?

Her hair isn't red. It's lilac. Kaori's is black. And auburn, it aches to just think about it. She's the sky, the sky that I can't reach. The glaring sunset. A sun that I don't deserve because I screwed it all up. I did. That's what I did.

I cover my eyes. My hands are wrapped up, bound in tan, crepe bandages, a pungent smell of antiseptic. A straw is placed between my lips. "Damn it Yamato, drink some fucking water. You're worrying me." Caramel eyes behind large navy frames. Only one person I know. No, it's not her. It's Miyako. She's back again.

Drunk laughter, hollering. " _I'll pour you a drink if you pour me mine, partner_!" A wedding. Takeru's. A long time ago. Topping up one drink after each other. A competition. Who'll get wrecked faster? " _Why doesn't anybody love me like how your brother loves Hikari, Yamato?_ " " _I think you're fine how you are. You don't need to be with somebody to be happy_." " _Are you sure_?" She clings her frail arms around my waist, sobbing. Intoxicated insecurities. " _Kazu broke up with me, and now he's married. Are you sure there isn't something wrong with me?" "Falling for somebody isn't permanent. Besides, what's the point of getting hurt over somebody?" "Yamato, but once you do fall in love...don't you want to fall in love again?" "No. I couldn't." "Why?" "Because love doesn't work for me." "You'll find someone." "What if I don't want to?"_

She has a way with words. She always knows what to say. I don't always see her often, but whenever she's here...she makes an impact. She gets to the point, says things for what they are. Sometimes I feel like she's the wisest amongst all of us. She might talk a lot, but she knows when to keep quiet. She sometimes feels like more an older sister, than a younger sister. Miho-chan is definitely like a younger sister _,_ while Miyako is both – she's immature when she wants to be, though she can be like an _onee-chan_ when she has to be. I don't know how I would have survived Takeru's wedding, with the constant meddling of my mother, if she hadn't been my partner. She had a magic for making things tolerable when everything was shit.

She lightly pats my cheeks. "Wake up. I don't want you barfing on my sofa, Yamato."

Dragging my arms, she tugs me to her bathroom. I do vomit again. I hate it because the vile taste always linger. I should be used to it by now, but I'm not. She runs water onto a flannel under the basin, wringing it until it's not dripping. The flannel is warm and damp when she dabs the corners of my mouth, nursing me like a pro. Well, she _is_ a nurse after all.

Another bottle of water materialises in her hands, and she forces me to drink it. "Take this too." It's a pill. "It's for the nausea." I take it. Her eyes are large and surveying. "It's not about just Sora, is it?"

Sora. Does she know? I push her away. I don't want to hear her name. I don't want to be reminded. I don't want...I shudder. Voices sting my ears. They're chattering from a distance. "I didn't know who to call." It's agitating. I hear my name repeat over a few times. They're talking about me. "Are you certain he's not on anything? Do we know how long he's been like this? May I suggest a blood test-" Jyou's here. "You'd need his consent. You can't force him to get blood drawn. He was fine the other day. His manager updates his Instagram. He's been at the studio too." "He's just drinking too much. He does this from time to time. He's taken the habit from his father. When he doesn't know how to cope, he downs a tonne of alcohol. He's so shit at expressing himself, I hate it when he closes up like this. How come I didn't know?" "Taichi-" "No...I should have checked up on him earlier. I should have-"

I need to run. Taichi's here. I haven't seen him, I've avoided him the most. I'd text him back, to prove that I was alive. I've made many excuses to not see him, blaming it on work. But, _damn it,_ Miyako's called him here. I can't escape. My lungs are burning, and I want to fresh air. My hands fumble for the window, nails scratching onto the glass, finally unlatching it open. A breeze flows through me. I want to drink it in more. I can breathe now. I want to-

"What are you doing?" Taichi growls. He barrels into me. The ground that looked like a rooftop transits to the soft magenta of Miyako's blankets. Her room. That's where I am. "Yamato, what the fuck?"

Jyou and Miyako are at the doorway, blocking me from exiting. Jyou has his phone next to his face, "I can call services-"

"No." Taichi closes the door on their faces. His eyes are troubled and angry. " _Explain._ "

The only way out is through the window. I can't do that. I can't fall like she did. I've fallen, I've tripped and stuffed up all my life...but I can't fall like this. No. Taichi's eyebrows are furrowed. He kicks behind my knees, and I stagger back onto the bed.

"I'm just hungover, Taichi. Fucking leave me alone."

Taichi snorts. "Nice one...now try again."

His brown eyes steady onto my shifting eyes. I can't stare at him in the face. It tears me up. He'd be disappointed in me. He's one of my best mates, and I fucked up. I hurt one of his friends. He won't forgive me. I don't forgive myself for it. What chance would he?

Taichi clears his throat. "Tell me what's going on."

Biting my bottom lip, my gaze drops down to the magenta blankets, distractedly picking at the fluff balls. He exhales when I don't reply. "Then what's going on between you an Sora?"

Bringing my knees up onto the bed, I wrap my arms around my legs. "No. Nothing."

"Bullshit." Taichi never fails to call me out for my lies. It's always been our banter, calling each other out when the other is acting like a dickhead. And, right now, I see why he's pissed off at me because I'm being impossible. "Then keep being like your dad."

"Don't you fucking dare speak about my dad-"

"You idolise him so much. He was a good father to you, but right now you're picking up his shit traits. You're trying to gloss things over, putting him on a pedestal. It's not the way to do it, not when you reek of alcohol, Yamato."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Then _fucking_ tell me. You're my best mate and having people give me updates with how you're going is like a fucking 'fuck you' to the face. You know how much I don't like your band mates because I think they're shit influences, and don't get me started on how Miyako told me about your state. _Miyako_ out of all people? My sister's best friend. What the hell is with that?" Taichi seethes.

"She found me. I wouldn't have spoken to her either way."

"That's not surprising since you hate taking about your issues out loud," Taichi says, irately. "Now tell me what's going down with Sora, because if you don't-"

"Nothing!" I've had it. I need him to shut up. I need him out. I need to get him off my back, so I resort for the easy option. "We fucked. That's it, alright? She was a good lay."

I'm heartless; I'm an ass. I get it. But this way it'll be easier to shove him out of my face, for Taichi to look at me in repulsion; it will be easier for him to let this talk go because I clearly don't want to talk about it.

Taichi snarls. "That's _not_ it! You think I haven't noticed how tolerable you've been ever since you met her? All of a sudden you take this shitty nose-dive and I don't know what the hell you're thinking – even worse than usual! You care about her, don't fucking deny that you don't."

"I don't care."

"I'm your best mate. Give me credit here." Taichi's tone lowers down a decibel, watching me as if I'm about to shatter. Like I'm fucking glass.

It's when I feel the lukewarm tears building up in my eyes, I sleeve it away and curse. I don't know how long I can take his interrogation without breaking into more pieces. Our friendship and how we converse is usually through sarcasm and through talking shit to each other. It's a Kodak moment whenever Taichi looks like this. Concerned and all. However, at this rare moment, he's looking at me in pity – like he did when my father died – like he did when my parents divorced. Like he always does when he doesn't know what else to do. And, it's not fair on him that he has to deal with me like this. He's genuinely trying, and I keep blocking him off.

"You wouldn't want to be my friend anymore if I told you," I say, voice hoarse, finally saying what scares me. If he knows, I know he'll leave. If he knows...he might cut me loose.

"Then what?" Taichi tries to make sense of it, tone grim. "What did you do?"

"Sora...I," I look away from him again. "I fucked up, alright?"

Taichi frowns. "What about Sora?"

"She didn't want me. She didn't want it...and I-oh God, I don't remember," I gasp out, chest heavy. I really don't – and that's what keeps eating me inside. "I hurt her and-"

His shadow pours over me. He's been standing over me this whole time, but it's only now that I'm cornered by his intimidating vibes. I wheeze. Breathing becomes a hindrance, the air seems to be constricting my lungs. I need to get away from here; I need to get away from him. I need a smoke. My body is crumbling and it's exhausting to keep still. I can't-

"What did you _fucking_ do, Yamato?"

Taichi grabs at my collar, making me look at him directly in the eye. I flinch automatically, yet somehow it encourages me, it fuels me to finally say it out loud, "You're right. I care about her, Taichi."

"And?"

Tears fall. "But I did it. She didn't want me, but I still did it..."

The unspoken words are enough to evoke something out of him. His eyes narrow, lips curving downwards into a growl, and it's then that he guts me on the spot. The impact causes me to land against the wall, clutching onto the point of contact, spluttering, coughing. It's funny because I don't feel any pain. What's painful is the hard glare Taichi gives me before he turns around and walks off.

Weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Somebody knows, somebody other than me. I'm chuckling bitterly at myself. I don't know why I feel free when I did something terrible, but knowing that Taichi knows that I fucked up, and that I'm not alone with the secret, it feels good to know that somebody else acknowledges how dirty, how useless I am.

Alcohol, smokes...nothing's going to do it. I might as well celebrate this little victory, savour in my own hopelessness of everything I've done wrong.

Breathing ragged, I slide against the wall, dialling a number.

When the person on the other line answers, I tiredly speak back, "Yamaguchi, could you hook me up with some more?"

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 **(a/n)** This took a while to write because it's pretty dark. Lots of swearing. Um, I don't know what else to say? This isn't exactly a fun read, and is much harder to write from Yamato's POV because everything is heavy. You can see he's tossing back and forth, and it's quite unclear considering his thoughts are all jumbled. I've also wanted to touch on Miyako x Yamato's friendship for a while. Unfortunately, it had to be in this form of a chapter.

Anyway, it'll take a while for Yamato to get back on his feet again. Definitely feels weird going through this after ending Bittersweet Catastrophe. Thanks for reading :)


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